Future's End
by innersanity
Summary: The end is in sight-- is there no waking from this dream? The Federation finds itself fighting for survival. Digitally re-mastered, with beautiful EASY TO READ formatting, unlike all those stories that look like a solid block
1.

"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering.

Note-I should mention that this is not my handiwork, it is a contribution from a friend.Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

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**Prologue__**

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_Five years ago..._

The starship _Defiant knifed across the battlefield, under and over Dominion warships.It was a time of war for the Federation, and this battle was most likely their final stand against the Dominion and its Founders.The __Defiant's one remaining wing, the __Ajax, snagged its nacelle on the command module of a Dominion battle cruiser, and went tumbling end over end.Finally it collided with a Klingon __Bird of Prey, and both vessels burst into flames._

Captain Benjamin Sisko winced at the explosion, "Dax, take us full ahead, heading: 056.9."

Once again the _Defiant rolled and accelerated, this time roaring past the last line of Dominion ships. _

"We've broken free, Captain!" Lieutenant Commander Dax exclaimed.

But Sisko maintained his grim countenance, "How many others made it through?"

Dax's voice dropped to a whisper, "None, Captain."

"Then we'll have to take on the Dominion _ourselves," Sisko said with intensity. "Dax: Plot a course for Deep Space 9... maximum warp."_

"Aye, Captain."

"The _Defiant has broken through our lines, sir," Gul Demar announced. "It's coming this way."_

"Well then," Weyoun, the Vorta ambassador instructed immediately, "order immediate pursuit," he looked to the Founder, and she nodded.

"No," Gul Dukat, the head of the Cardassian goverenment, and the joint leader of the Dominion held up his hand. "I want to destroy Sisko personally.Let him come.The _Defiant is no match for this station," the Cardassian smiled wolfishly. "Do not worry, ambassador.__Terrak Nor is a virtual fortress," Dukat grinned. "I should know--I captured the slaves who built it."_

"We're coming up on Deep Space Nine, sir," Dax stated as the disk-shaped _Defiant returned to sub-light speeds._

"The old place never looked so good," Miles O'Brien commented off-handishly.

"I think we can forget about a stop-over," Sisko said plainly. "Dax, take us into the wormhole."

"Sir?" All eyes were suddenly on Sisko.

"Sir," Doctor Bashier spoke up. "You know there are at least one-thousand Dominion reinforcements in there.We're only one ship."

"Dukat!" Demar announced. "The _Defiant is in range."_

"Excellent," Dukat rubbed his hands together.His sworn enemy would soon be no more then a floating cloud of space dust.

"Well," Weyoun prompted, "what are you waiting for?Kill them."

"All in good time, my dear ambassador," Dukat held up a finger. "Demar... fire," Dukat's eyes glittered.

Demar's ridged finger came down heavily on the quantum torpedo firing pad.But... nothing happened.

"I said _fire, Demar," Dukat repeated in an irqued tone._

"I can't, sir," Demar checked his console. "The weapons systems are down!"

"What?" Both Weyoun and Dukat pounced on Demar.

"I can't explain it," Demar held up his hands. "There must be a malfunction somewhere in the weapons manifold."

"No," Dukat hissed. "It isn't a malfunction.It must have been the Major," Dukat said, spitting Major Kira's name from his mouth.He sighed. "No matter.What can one ship do against one-thousand of our own?"

"Hmm," Weyoun murmured. "One could wonder."

"We're entering the wormhole," Dax said as the blue mouth of the Celestial Temple enveloped them.

"There's the Dominion fleet," O'Brien mumbled.

Nog the Ferangi turned in his seat, "I still don't see what difference one ship is going to make..."

"Raise shields," Sisko ordered. "Load all torpedo bays and prepare to fire on my mark."

And suddenly, Sisko was with the prophets.

But in the same instant he was also back on his ship.

He rubbed his head.What had the prophets spoke to him about?Something about not letting the game end.Something about not letting him commit suicide like this.He shrugged it off.He was in charge of his own life.He made decisions for himself.

"Sir?" Bashier came up behind him. "Are you all right?" 

"Yes, Doctor, I'm fine.Prepare to fire torpedoes, Mr. O'Brien."

"Captain, if I may extend one last protest--" Garrak began.

"Protest noted, Mr. Garrak," Sisko cut him off. "Mr. O'Brien..." Sisko stopped.All of the enemy ships on the main viewer were slowly fading away.

"They've engaged their cloaking devices!" O'Brien exclaimed.

"No, Chief, I don't think so," Dax said slowly. "I'm reading no trace of them.No ion trail--nothing."

"Well they couldn't have just vanished," Bashier protested.

Sisko stood from his command chair, "I don't know where they went," he rubbed his bald head again. "But I think it's a safe bet they won't be coming back..."

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_"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering._

_"You are!" Makra shot back. "You are a sniveling Ferangi coward!" his muscles rippled beneath his stiff uniform._

_Paul Plack almost made a move to quiet the big Klingon, but sat back in his command chair with a heavy sigh.Makra and Rom had been going at it for the entire mission._

_Paul sighed again; his hands tightened on the armrests of his chair.Ferangi and Klingon were never meant to work with each other--the first with their lust for latinum; the shady deal, and the latter with their obsession with honor._

_In his mind, Paul felt the weight of command descending on his shoulders--the ball was indeed in his court.But then again, crew relations were not his concern.That was the job of an old veteran of the field, Paul's good friend, Commodore Albert Daystrom._

_Makra and Rom had been Albert's personal project since before they had left Deep Space Nine.He was determined to bring Klingon/Ferangi relations together--in his own way, _

_"Hey," he said as he took notice of the growing dispute between the two petty officers, "Calm down, gentlemen, or one of you is taking a trip through the airlock in you underwear."_

_This statement brought almost a direct halt to the conflict.Albert Daystrom's threats were not to be taken lightly._

_"Yes, sir," Makra rumbled, the bony ridges on his forehead shifting in the Klingon equivalent of a sigh._

_"Y, yes, sir," Rom replied, mournfully overlapping Makra, "it will never happen again, sir..."_

_"I should hope not," Alby arched his eyebrows knowing full well that he had gotten the same response the last time he had broken the two up. "Never again," he echoed Rom's words with a touch of mockery. "Or," he began seriously, "you both get put on sanitation duty for the next week."_

_This almost made them stiffen more then the airlock threat.They returned to their posts without another word._

_Paul shook his head slightly at the whole exchange.He missed the feel of the Endeavor__ where he had served as tactical officer.It's crew had been tried, trained, and professional._

_Such as it was during his brief service on the warship NX Stiletto__.Once again, professionalism as far as the eye could see.From his old friend and commanding officer, Captain Peter Schwartz, to the most lowly yeoman in engineering.All of them hand-picked experts.But that had been over a year ago._

_Now he was stuck on an old Everest class runabout mapping the Gamma Quadrant Badlands with a bunch of green rookies._

_Paul's brow creased as he--for the millionth time that day--was bombarded by the true feelings of frustration he had been trying to suppress._

_Just as he was about to slip totally into himself, a female voice from the conn brought him back to the land of the living, "Commander," Paige Zuouski announced, "we're getting some very unusual sensor readings off the port bow--strange even for the Badlands."_

_Paul was instantly alert, "On screen, Ensign," finally--perhaps some excitement._

_The gray pixely wall at the head of the bridge dissolved into an image of the fiery tumult that was the Gamma Quadrant Badlands._

_"Where, Ms. Zuouski?" Paul squinted his blue eyes against the red glow of plasma that bathed the entire room. "I don't see anything out of the ordinary."_

_"Up in the left-hand corner, Commander," Paige fiddled with the buttons on her console. "I'm getting some interference, " she went on, "but I think I can get you magnification--just give me a second."_

_"A second could cost you your life, Ensign," Commodore Daystrom said from his chair next to Paul's.Paul was once again glad that Daystrom had agreed to take over crew relations--and could keep everyone on their toes._

_"Magnification," Zuouski said a few moments later._

_"It looks like a mar'kogh__!" Makra stood from his seat at operations._

_"Pardon me, Lieutenant?" Paul said pointedly--but then some of his harshness vanished as he himself took notice of the phenomenon._

_It was a stark, cold blue against the flowing colors of the flowery Badlands; it pulsed with a hidden energy.It was minuscule--only a mere three meter's across--but it was attention grabbing none the less._

_"Mr. Lefflier?" Paul prompted._

_"According to the outboard sensors, it seems to be made up of mostly catrazylon," the young Gary Lefflier reported. "Plus a heavy concentration of tachyon and sub-space particles," he continued. "It's not like anything I've ever seen."_

_"Hmm... what do you make of it,Commodore?" Paul asked Daystrom._

_"I don't know," Albert rubbed his chin. "But I want to find out.Helm," he turned to Zuouski, "take us closer to the 'anomaly', heading 054 degrees.I'd like to--"_

_Daystrom was suddenly cut off by a hail from Makra at ops, "Sir," his deep bass fairly shook the bridge of the small ship, "we have an incoming message from Captain Sisko of Deep Space Nine--shall I patch it through?"_

_"Yes, Lieutenant, put in on screen," Paul said, the spirit of discovery coursing through his veins._

_"The anomaly will have to wait," Commodore Daystrom chimed in as Captain Benjamin Sisko's goateed personage appeared on the viewer. "Captain," Albert began again, "what can we do for you?"_

_"Commodore, Commander," Ben Sisko grinned, his teeth a shocking white against the rest of his dark face. "How goes the expedition?"_

_"Fairly well, Captain, thank you," Paul replied. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"_

_"I'm afraid a slight problem has arisen that will unfortunately bring your mission to a close," Ben replied easily._

_"Problem?" Daystrom asked, concern in his gold-flecked eyes. "What kind of problem?"_

_"Hm," Sisko grunted, but maintained his ever-present smile. "To be blunt, Commodore, the problem is you."_

_"Me?" Albert questioned, his concern covered by his confusion._

_"Well, as it turns out, you're urgently needed at Starfleet Command for some sort of Admiral's meeting--something about beginning trade negotiations with the Skeloslouns."_

_"The Skelosions," Albert corrected automatically, then put a hand to his head. "I forgot all about that!"_

_"Well, obviously they didn't forget about you," Sisko quipped, reaching for the baseball on his desk. "They told me to tell you that you're due on Earth in two days," he tossed his autographed ball and caught it._

_"Thank you, Captain," Alby said. "We'll start back towards the worm hole immediately.Daystrom out."_

_There was a small beep as Sisko acknowledged, and then signed off._

_"Well, gentlemen," Daystrom turned to address the bridge crew of the Rushmore__, "looks like our mission has been cut a bit short."_

_"And just when we discovered something possibly worth-while," Paul heard Paige murmur._

_"Yes," Daystrom had apparently overheard Paige's comment as well, "we can't just let sleeping dogs lie.I propose we launch a class IV probe into the readings, and mark it on this vessel's star-charts for further study.Commander?"_

_Albert turned to Paul, "Of course, Commodore," Paul conceded readily. "Make it so."_

_"Mr. Rom?" Daystrom turned to the science I operator._

_"Right away, Admiral," Rom replied in his nasal Ferangi voice. "Launching probe Gamma five... now," the ship rocked slightly as the probe was ejected, then stabilized._

_"Now, Ms. Zuouski, take us back towards home, full impulse," Paul ordered. "Or Mr. Daystrom here could get into a lot of trouble with his Starfleet pals..._

***

"Computer," I said abruptly, "shut off _Rushmore command log 508164," and the picture of the __Rushmore's cramped bridge froze; erased itself from my home desk monitor._

I ran a hand through my sandy mane, and sat back in my chair.

That log had been taped a full six days ago--I had just received it in my message base at the Academy where I taught quite regularly.It had been attached to a small PADD that had simply read: Captain Peter Schwartz--"Does this spark your interest?Will explain."--Commander Paul Plack.

I straightened my command uniform with two sharp tugs.It did indeed "spark my interest", as Paul had known it would.

Now all I had to do was get in touch with him at a downtown restaurant--as a small PS at the bottom of the PADD had said--today at 0800 hours.

I absentmindedly looked down at my desk chronometer--then jumped up in surprise--it was already 0751.

I quickly typed out a note for Jamie--my wife--on another PADD, left it on my desk, and rushed from our Los Angeles dwelling, hoping to catch the 0800 impulse speeder.

"... So anyway," Paul concluded, putting down his fork, "it's needless to say that I want to go back and follow up on our examination of the anomaly," he leaned forward. "It's something else, Pete.When I reviewed the sensor logs, I found it was riddled with _temporal particles--the stuff time is made of."_

I swallowed a mouthful of_ Volkalian egg, "So why do you need me?" I asked. "Just take another runabout and study it to your heart's content--I'm sure Sisko would be glad to accommodate you."_

"Well... to be blunt, I don't want just another runabout.I feel this is really important.Pete... I haven't told anyone else yet, but temporal particles weren't all I found when I replayed those logs.I also found an enormous amount of neutrino particles."

This time I was the one who leaned forward, "Neutrino particles?What type?"

"N-45," Paul stated with a flourish.

"N-45," I murmured. "The same type that are known to keep the Bajoran wormhole stable--_and they've also been mixed with T-particles.That thing couldn't be anything less then a floating extension of trans-space."_

Paul nodded, not a bit smugly, "Yep.A baby wormhole--and if it ever decides to grow up, it would have enough power to send you to another galaxy; maybe even beyond."

I had heard enough.Paul had done more then "spark my interest," he had blown it wide open.My pupils dilated and turned as I switched my cloned implant eyes from electromagnetic to normal, crystal-clear sight, "What do you want me to do?" I asked, exited, but keeping a level head.

"I want you to ask Command if they'd be willing to spare one of their sensor boats for me--I mean, us--to go and check it out."

I wiped my chin on my napkin, "I don't know, Paul.You know how touchy Starfleet is about handing out ships--since the second Borg War starships have been awfully hard to come by; even big weaponless tugs like sensor boats."

But then I thought once more of the possible merit this discovery held--and made up my mind, "Listen," I returned my napkin to the table, "This semester at the Academy is almost over.After I'm done there, meet me at my home in LA, and we'll go to Command together."

"Thanks, Pete," Paul stood, and made ready to leave. "I won't forget this."


	2. 

"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering.

"I want to be a doctor!" Six year old Tianna Mariel Schwartz announced brazenly a few nights later at the dinner table.

I looked up from my own food to gaze at my young daughter, "You want to be a doctor, honey?"I asked. "When did this desire come about?"

I caught Jamie's grin that showed she had been through this many times before, but said nothing as I waited for Tia's answer.

"'Cause doctors get to work with sick people, an help them an stuff," I opened my mouth to comment on this statement, to say that being a doctor was also a lot of hard work, but Tia wasn't through yet. "An they get to fix broken bones, and deliver babies, and work with lots of neat doctor things like neural scanners, and bio... biore...."

"Bioregenerative fields," Jamie supplied the hard to pronounce word.

"Yeah, them," Tianna concluded happily."But the most important reason is that Mommy's one too."

"My, she certainly is the little crowd pleaser, isn't she," I whispered softly in Jamie's ear. "How many times has she pulled that speech off?"

Jamie sighed, "At least five times today," then her smile returned. "But I still think it's sweet."

"Yeah?" I raised an eyebrow and continued whispering. "Just yesterday, I caught her parading around the house in my boots saying she wanted to be a starship captain."

Jamie looked over at her daughter with new eyes, "You're kidding me."

I shook my head, and both of us grinned.

A few seconds later, the door chime sounded.

"I'll get it," I announced, my previous mood replaced with Starfleet stoicness, "it's probably Paul."

Sure enough, when I opened the door, there stood Commander Plack, still in his duty uniform.Usually, he would take a great deal of time in greeting both my wife and my daughter, but tonight, he obviously had other matters on his mind, "Pete," he said in greeting, "you ready?"

"Yeah. Just let me get my combadge and I'll be set," and with that reply, I went to retrieve my communicator. "J'naii, you two can finish dinner without me," I called over my shoulder. "It'll probably be a late night."

This was the night that Paul and I were to ask Command for use of a sensor boat.It had been a month since our first meeting over breakfast, but Paul's words still burned in my mind: _"Yep.A baby worm hole--and if it ever decides to grow up, it would have enough power to send you to another galaxy; maybe even beyond."_

I hastily kissed my wife good-bye, and hurried out the door.

"So again, that is the reason why we require the use of a Starfleet s-boat," I watched as Admiral Watson clicked off the _Rushmore's bridge log just as I had done exactly one month ago. "We wish to further study the phenomenon discovered in the footage you have just witnessed.We believe there is potential here."_

"Hmph.Potential for what?" Admiral Watson was known for an open mind, butseemed unimpressed with our request.

"Sir," Paul stood from his seat off to the side, "if you'll direct your attention to screen two over here," then Commander Plack paused as the Admiral turned, "I'll show you something that will make this all worth-while."

As he spoke, screen two came to life and displayed a electromagnetic spectrum of the Badlands anomaly.

"As you can see, the anomaly is literally a mass T- and N-particles--highly concentrated: 45% temporal, and 40% neutrino.Now," Paul continued, "based on this, we believe that--"

"You believe that it could possibly be the beginnings of worm hole," Dr. Tarrmud, Admiral Watson's science advisor said in awe.

We both nodded curtly at the denseness of Starfleet politicians--they had just now grasped the point we had been trying to convey to them for the last hour.

"A worm hole..." Watson murmured, almost to himself.

Not being able to help myself, I prodded the head admiral, "Sir?"

Watson looked up and into my eyes, "It looks like you gentlemen have gotten yourselves a starship."

"Yes, sir," I said finally, though Paul overlapped the brunt of my words with a:"Thank you sir."

"Dismissed," the Admiral waved his hand in our direction.

But as the doors closed behind us, the conversation continued, "Do you think they bought it, Admiral?We didn't give in too easily?"

"No, Doctor.I think if anything, we held out too long," Watson took a deep breath. "But whatever their impression, they're still going, and that's all that matters." 

The Admiral touched a button on his desk, opening the com line between himself and his top operative, Lieutenant Commander Raseen Plin, "Raseen?" He called into the network.

"Raseen here, Admiral," A light, airy female voice replied.

"Raseen, I need you to contact Lieutenant Commander Edward Reagan--you know Edward--he's the base leader of our little 'establishment' on Risa.Tell him that we need him to finish his project and get it over to the Gamma Quadrant Badlands as soon as possible."

"Shall I notify Mr. Doyle, Mr. Worf, and Mr. La Forge as well, sir?"

Watson rubbed his temples in thought for a few seconds, then responded confidently, "Yes, Raseen: notify them all--but remember: time is of the essence."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Sir?"

"You remember those two officers I told you about earlier--the ones who wanted to make use of that sensor boat?"

"You mean Paul Plack and Peter Schwartz?Yes, I remember them."

"I want you to stick to them like glue--I believe that's how the old saying goes--I want you to be there when they make their 'discovery.'On second thought, I'll just give you command of their s-boat--then you'll be able to witness everything first-hand.Understood?"

"Yes, Admiral," there was a beep as Plin signed off, and then silence.

"Do you really think this is it, Admiral?" Dr. Tarrmud questioned. "Command's not just jumping at shadows?I mean, we've observed them for the last two months--there is no evidence that they are indeed hostile.All they've shown interest in up till now was technology."

"Command is sure they've found a pattern--an offensive net of some kind."

"All I'm saying, Admiral, is that even though they're a new species, we should give them the benefit of a doubt."

"And all I'm saying, _Doctor, is that being a Starfleet officer means following through with your orders--even when they involve __war..." _

"Shuttle 06 requesting permission to dock in port three," our pilot, Ensign George Decario radioed McKinley Station's central command--then he paused, waiting for clearance.

I took those spare seconds to take in the supremacy of a view I'd taken for granted: Earth was indeed a blue jewel against the dark fabric of space.Wispy clouds spiraled and soared in Earth's clear skies--proof of a life-supporting atmosphere--while green and brown land masses--continents--floated tranquilly in constant harmony with the white-capped seas swirling around them.

Now my eyes found Earth Station McKinley; Earth's main spaceport.It was quite a stunning example of the human race's technological achievements--nearly seven kilometers tall, and approximately four kilometers across.When one gazed at it for a long while, one might begin to think that it was nothing more then a giant floating mushroom.

On it's top-most, and widest section--the "cap" of the mushroom--were four starship docking bays, each seven hundred meters across.It's second section on the "stem" of the mushroom was roughly two or three kilometers in diameter and contained the many shuttle docking bays--this section was to where we were now headed.

"Permission granted, shuttle 06," a tech responded seemingly an eternity later. "You may proceed at your convenience."

"Roger, command," Decario replied, then turned to his passengers: Paul, Jamie, and myself. "OK, sirs, it'll only be a few minutes more now."

We acknowledged his words with silent nods of our heads, then waited--still not speaking--until the shuttle was safely nestled within shuttle bay three.Then we all rose in unison and piled out of the small, cramped shuttlepod.

"Oh," I grunted, as soon as my feet touched the bay floor. "It sure feels good to be able to stretch out again."

"I'm with you there," Paul said, flexing this way and that. "We should have listened when that tech back on Earth told us this size pod could only seat two."

"I don't know what you guys are complaining about; I feel fine," Jamie commented. "A little tired," she added, "but fine."

"That's because you're the one who got the second seat," I reminded her. "Paul and I had to sit on the floor in the rear."

"Hey," Jamie indignantly crossed her arms in front of her, "I let you sit on my lap for a whole thirty minutes... so I wouldn't complain if I were you."

Paul allowed himself a small snigger, "She has a point, Pete."

"Yeah, yeah, I suppose.I'm just not used to such cramped quarters, that's all."

"A touch of claustrophobia, perhaps?" A new voice spoke up behind us, one which we immediately turned to face. "Hi.You are the three who requested use of the sensor boat _Anna May?" When I nodded, the woman who now stood in front of us extended her hand, shook each of ours strongly, then went on to introduce herself, "I'm Commander Raseen Plin... the current commanding officer of your sensor boat__.Are you ready to board yet?"_

Before I answered, I gave the woman a quick once over: She was slender--probably in her late twenties, with long auburn hair that fell to her waist.For a moment, I thought she was human--then I noticed the tell-tale spot type markings down both sides of her face and neck.She was a Trill--or a "Carrier of the Worm" as some races liked to call them.

"Yes, Commander," I answered. "We will board now."

"Yeah," Paul broke in, his eyes fixed on Plin, "Everything is satisfactory."

Plin smiled in an amused fashion before continuing, "Then follow me.We're docked in port four--and the crew is already assembled and at their posts.We're due to make a stop-over at DS9 before we enter the Gamma Quadrant, but other then that, we're a 'straight express.'"

"Thank you, Ms. Plin," I responded diplomatically. "I'm sure--thanks to you--this will be a pleasant voyage."

"Oh, and by the way, Ms. Plin," Paul spoke up a second time, "are you... free this evening?"

"Hey, Jamie, what's wrong?" I had come into our guest quarters and found her--not unpacking--but staring silently out the window at the streaks of glowing paint that were indeed stars.I came up behind her, put my arms around her waist and felt the soft bulge that would eventually be two fine young twins. "What's wrong?" I asked again.

She turned her head, and her body to face me, and her hair--roughly the same shade as my own--fell from glory, and down around her shoulders.

"I don't know," she answered dutifully. "Maybe it's Tianna.I mean, we've never left her alone like this before--we've never gone off planet without her: and now we're going all the way to the Gamma Quadrant.Maybe even beyond.I sure hope SarahBeth can handle her," she added, referring to our mutual old friend, and single workaholic SarahBeth Boylan.Then she sighed. "I guess I'm also worried about the twins."

"Oh, Jamie, what's to worry about?The doctor says they're not due for five more months."

"Well, you have to remember, Pete, I'm a doctor too--a CMO--and I know things happen; especially to people under stress."

"Don't worry, J'naii.It's not your fault you chose to come back to active duty, and _then found you were pregnant," I held her tighter. "But you're here now, and I know you'll do your job to the best of your ability--besides; on this trip we're here as observers," I stopped as I myself took in the same view Jamie had been engrossed in only moments earlier.Then I came back to reality, and found Jamie still wrapped in my arms. "It'll be good practice.It'll let you kind of ease back into things.And trust me: the twins will be fine."_

She smiled at this, and I drew away a bit, kissed her, and then settled back into our embrace.

I saw the stars outside grow shorter, shorter, and then become the small points of light they really were.

We had arrived at Deep Space Nine.

"Dabo!"

The word cut like a knife through the stuffy atmosphere of Quark's Bar--screamed by yet another winner of the cosmic wheel game aptly named, Dabo.

"Don't they ever shut up?" I heard Jamie murmur.

The clinking of the wheel again, and then:

"Dabo!"

"Doesn't sound like it," Paul offered helpfully from his seat next to Plin.

Jamie lowered her head to table level with a little groan.

To hide my grin, I lifted my glass to my lips and sipped my cold Samarian Sunset.I looked at my chronometer: 0100.The ship should be ready to leave in about an hour.I turned to Raseen Plin who sat on my right, "So what do you think of Quark's little establishment, Ms. Plin?" 

"Please," Plin held out her hands, "call me Raseen.And I personally think it leaves much to be desired.The synthehol even tastes fake," she made a face.

"Relax," A dark haired middle-eastern man came up to our table.He had a remarkably thin face, and was wearing a blue collared Starfleet uniform--a doctor--or, at very least, a science officer, "it's just part of the atmosphere.If this place didn't appear seedy, Quark would loose half his customers," a smirk touched his lips. "May I join you?"

When we all nodded, he sat, and fully introduced himself, "I'm Doctor Julian Bashier, head of medical here on the station... you may have heard of my research on Changeling DNA about five years ago?"

Recognition hit me.So this was the doctor who had invented the phaser sweep.

I extended my hand," It's a pleasure to meet you Doctor," and as he shook my hand, I continued. "I suppose you are already aware of our identities?"

"Yes," Bashier concurred, "I saw your names on the incoming roster, and I figured I'd like to meet the Doctor who perfected the Bio-regeneration theory," at this he looked over in Jamie's direction, then he looked over at Paul and myself, "not to mention the Captain of the _Stiletto and his first officer."_

Then Bashier finally turned to Plin and cocked his head, "But your name I didn't recognize."

Raseen grinned, "Let's just say, I'm their chauffeur--I take them where they want to go."

"Ah, of course," Julian sat back in his chair. "So what brings you all to Deep Space Nine?"

"Survey mission in the Badlands," I supplied quickly, before Paul or Jamie could say anything--the worm hole theory was to stay safely between us and Command. "We've stopped here for supplies, and'll be on our way again in about forty-five minutes."

"Oh," Bashier was clearly disappointed. "I guess Starfleet must be really scrounging for personal to send you three.Hmph.The next thing you know, they'll be sending Jean Luc Picard to help with waste management," he smiled a crooked smile at his small joke, then continued. "But I suppose times have been tight ever since that second Borg War--after all, we did lose a total of fifty starships, let alone all of the smaller ships that lent a hand.And I--"

"Julian!"A distinctly Irish voice beckoned our new friend.

"Oh, I forgot," Julian stopped, and put down his half-empty glass, "today I was supposed to go kiaking with Miles--you know Miles O'Brien--Chief of Operations?"

Paul nodded, "Yeah.I met him about a month ago--good guy.Likes to play darts."

Julian smiled, "That's him," then he stood. "Anyway, it was nice meeting all of you, and I hope... you enjoy the rest of your time here--gritty though it is."

"Thank you, Doctor," I said in farewell, as Bashier walked over to where O'Brien stood.I continued to watch as once he reached him, they both turned--rather resolutely--and entered the nearest Holo suite.

After they disappeared from view, I swiveled my head back towards the bar, just in time for a particularly loud:

"Dabo!" Screeched by a huge lumbering humanoid dressed in what looked like padded garbage bags.

My head joined Jamie's on the table.

As the large Cardassian double doors hissed open in front of me, I quietly stepped through them, and into Captain Sisko's office.

It was a vast office, with two circular view ports at the precise angle necessary to catch the splendor of the Bajoran worm hole when it opened.A long curving desk occupied the center of the room, with tall book cases on either side of it against the walls.The only thing that struck me as odd was the fact that the entire room was devoid of Starfleet colors--then, in that same instant, I remembered that the entire station had originally been built by Cardassian architects; not Federation workers.

"Captain," Sisko grinned, "come in, have a seat," after I had done so, the captain went on. "So.You're about ready to check out?"

"Yes.We're getting ready to," I replied slowly, not sure of how much to reveal.

"Come on, Captain, ease up a little bit," Sisko reached for his mounted baseball. "I know about the worm hole possibilities.I'm supposed to act as your contact between the Badlands and Starfleet Command."

I sighed, "Leave it to Watson to think of something like this.I'll bet you two bars of latinum he doesn't want you as my contact, but as my accountability man--just to make sure I don't do anything _he wouldn't do."_

Sisko smiled again, "I'll have you know I'm not allowed to divulge my orders--but that's a pretty accurate guess."

I smiled as well, "Well, then, I guess I'm about ready to pull out.We'll keep in touch."

"Hm.If a certain admiral has anything to do with it, I'm sure we will..." 

"We're coming up on the Badlands, Commander," Lieutenant Neal Reagan--brother of my old tactical officer Edward--announced from ops.

"Thank you for the update, Lieutenant," Raseen replied. "Prepare to drop out of warp on my mark."

"Aye, sir."

"Mark," Plin concluded as the ship slowed to impulse power.

"On screen," I said from the command chair next to Raseen's--and the Badlands appeared instantly."Now," I went on, "Lieutenant Ormerod, would you please hand over control of conn to Commander Plack?"

"Sir," Parker Ormerod said not quite passively, and stepped away from his control board, letting Paul take his place.

"Scanning for any trace of N- and T-particles, Captain; trying to find a match," Paul said, the moment he sat down.Then, after a short while of fruitless searching, he looked up. "I can't seem to find it again."

"Well, with all due respect, sir," Parker began cockily, "are you sure you know what you're looking for?"

"I was there, Lieutenant," Paul said firmly. "I _know what to look for--just give me a second."_

More time passed.Then, finally, "Captain, Commander, I think I have something; bearing 03 mark 9501.Can you get that on screen?"

"Mr. Reagan?" Raseen Plin nodded in Neal's direction.

"Hmm, I'm getting some interference, but I think I can get you visual... now."

And then, a blue presence invaded our view screen, practically rivaling the plasmatic Badlands in magnificence.

"The sensors estimate it must be at least eight _kilometers in diameter," Paul said in hushed tones._

"Just like it should be," I heard Plin mutter under her breath.I was about to question her on her meaning, but before I could get a chance, she spoke up again. "Hm.It's a bit larger in real life then in your reports, Commander."

"I don't understand it," Paul said. "Last time I was here, it had a diameter of only three meters--there's no way it could have gotten this big in only a month."

"I propose we scan the anamoly before proceeding," Plin suggested.

"Um, I don't think anomaly is the correct term anymore," Neal put in while he studied his board. "I read here an increase of T-particles--a 150% increase.Plus, the neutrino levels are off the scale," at this, Neal turned in his seat to face myself and Ms. Plin. "Captain, Commander; what we have here is a genuine, bonified trans-space worm hole."

I stood from my chair, "Do we know what it's range is, Mr. Reagan?"

"Roughly two-million light years, sirs," Neal paused, then looked back to his station to check his findings. "Enough power to take you to a nearby galaxy--maybe Andromeda."

"This is unbelievable!" Paul suddenly broke free from his Starfleet skin."What an amazing discovery--a worm hole to another galaxy!"

I smiled at Paul's enthusiasm, "It is exiting, isn't it?"

"Well," Paul said as he let Parker retake his seat, "what are we waiting for?Helm, take us through!"

"I don't think that would be the most prudent course of action, Commander," Raseen's soft voice neatly neutralized Paul's zeal. "I suggest we run a few tests to make sure it's safe, to make sure it is stable."

I raised an eyebrow in Plimn's direction, "The Commander is right," I agreed. "We have to make sure that once we're through, we'll be able to get back.Conn--Mr. Ormerod?"

After a few moments: "Sir?It does appear that this end of the worm hole is very unstable," Parker shook his head. "I don't think we could even pass through once without sustaining heavy damage." 

Then came a beeping from Parker's console, "Wait, sirs, I'm getting another reading: Commander, Captain, the hole has become stable!"

"Captain, we have a ship coming through the worm hole!" Neal cried so his exclamation almost seemed to weld with Parker's.

"A ship?" I inquired. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, sir."

"Configuration?"

"No ready matches can be found in the ship's computer banks, but from what I can tell, it's most likely some kind of bulk freighter.I'm reading no energy weapons of any kind; massive cargo space."

"Possibility that this ship could be from the Andromeda galaxy?"

This time it was Lieutenant Ormerod who answered, "Almost a 90% chance, Captain."

The _Anna May was a tiny grey dot before the awsome swirl of blue, white and ocean greens that was the beckoning worm hole.The anomaly grew with every tense second that passed.Ultimately, the eye of the hurricane cleared, and a dark speck shot free of the phenomenon._

"Captain, we have visual confirmation of a ship," Neal announced.

"Magnify," I instructed, gripping the hands of my command chair.The tiny dot was replaced by a large, boxy cruiser devoid of markings and weapons.

I sat back down and made a decision, "Open a channel, Mr. Ormerod, transmit in all known languages."

"Sir?" Parker turned.

"Hail them," Plin seconded my instruction.

"Yes, sirs," Parker submitted. "Channel open."

"Attention unidentified alien vessel," I began, "this is Captain Peter Schwartz of the United Federation of Planets," there was no answer. "I repeat: this is the Federation starship--"

Plin stood up next to me, "Please identify yourselves," she said. "We are a peace loving society, and mean you _no harm."_

I sat up a bit straighter at this statement.I had detected a slight undertone of menace creeping into Raseen's voice.But it was so trivial that I wasn't even sure that it had really been there at all. 

There was a quirk from Lieutenant Reagan's board, "Incoming message, sirs--audio only."

"Patch it through," I said slowly.

"Greetings," our ship's translator provided, "we--Tregonians from--galaxy of many spirals," the transmission came through haltingly, and with gaps--probably because the translator was having a hard time with this new language. "We know--must," it went on. "Where are we?"

I stood and looked towards our view screen, wondering if they were even recieving our visual, "You are now--at least--two _million from your last position--which I suppose was the Andromeda galaxy," I answered, saying the last part quietly, and for my own confirmation. "Now you have arrived in a spiral arm galaxy which we know as the Milky Way."_

"This--new to us," the Tregonian stated bluntly. "But I am rude.I--forgotten to introduce myself.I am Captain--Dukag of the freighter--_Aglikad..."_

"We are representatives of the Federation government," Plin supplied. "Are you a species of genetically perfect clones?"

"What?" I turned to Raseen.

"If I remember correctly," Plin went on, "'Dukag' was the name of one of your operatives in the Beta Quadrant.You know," the menace creeping back into her voice, "the one who confirmed our fears about your 'offensive net?'"

"Captain, Commander," Neal said suddenly, "the connection's been severed--and a sensor shield of some kind is dropping away from the Tregonian's ship!"The lumbering tug on our main viewer was replaced by a sleek dark green vessel.It had a clearly triangular body with downward swooping wings."I'm reading a massive weapons payload, not to mention their maneuverability has increased by two-hundred percent!"

"Sirs," Parker broke in, "they're raising their shields and powering up their weapons systems!"

"What?" I paused, trying to get my mind to stop it's gyrations.

I heard Paul say," Raise shields--prepare for evasive maneuvers!" And everything came back into focus.

"Ms. Plin," I announced, "you have a lot of explaining to do..."

"No time, Captain," Raseen replied. "It's ten to one the Tregs will punch right through our shields in three shots."

The stars flew by the view screen in one direction, then the other as the _Anna May spun through evasive action.The deck shook with the impact of the new alien's phase-disrupters, and the stars in the view screen stood still. _

"Damage report!" I cried over the moaning red alert sirens.

"Port nacelle's been hit!" Neal responded. 

"Shields are at twenty percent!" Parker seconded.

Paul looked over towards me from science one, "We've lost warp power, Captain--impulse too."

"We're dead in space," I murmured. 

My attention returned to the viewscreen.The alien vessel swung into view directly oppisite the _Anna May and accelerated for a final run.It quickly grew larger, and the tips of its wing-like structures sparked as it prepared to attack._

"Sirs," Neal called, and I waited, fearing more bad news.He spun in his chair to face us, one hand still on his console. "We have at least thirty unidentified fighter-type vessels and a starship heading our way."

"Coming out of the wormhole?" I tensed.

"No, sir--they're all coming from the opposite direction."

"The cavalry!" Raseen let out a whoop.The Tregonian ship stopped its advance and began scanning the new arrivals.

"Incoming message from the starship, Captain," Parker offered.

"Put it through," I allowed, ready for anything.

But I couldn't help breaking into a grin as I saw Lieutenant Commander Daniel Doyle's face appear on our viewer, "Hello, Captain," he said cheerfully. "In case you haven't noticed, you've got a Tregonian scavenger ship breathing down your neck," I nodded as he went on. "Oh.You have noticed.Well, in that case, why don't you pencil-packing scientists move off to the side, and let us big boys handle it?No offense to you real men over there," he added as an after-thought.

"None taken," I smiled as well. "Of course, Mr. Doyle--you may have free run of the battle field."

"_Thank you, sir.Starship __Odyssey out," Dan signed off._

"What was that all about?" Paul turned to me again, question written across his face.

"I have no idea," I admitted. "Commander Plin?"

"Like I said: long story--I'll tell it to you sometime.Right now," she paused to take a breath, "I think the most prudent course of action would be to evacuate the _Anna May and transfer all of our personal over to Lt. Doyle's ship.Get out of harms way," she put her hands behind her back, and silently awaited my approval._

"All right, let's go," I decided. "Mr. Plack, inform the rest of the crew, then man a shuttle."

"Aye, sir," Paul straightened his uniform as Plin, myself, and the rest of the bridge crew made our way to the turbo-lift that would take us to shuttle bay three.


	3. 

"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering.

"We clear, Commander?" I asked Paul as he piloted the shuttle out of the _Anna May's cargo bay._

"We're clear, Captain," Paul reported, then turned to Plin. "Raseen, get those maneuvering jets working."

Plimn's finger's danced across her console, "Maneuvering jets... enabled," she concluded finally.She turned her head to the side as if checking to make sure the battle between the _Odyssey and the scavenger was still raging. _

I sat back and decided to follow her gaze.I turned and watched through a view port as the somewhat dish-shaped battle scarred _Anna May got farther and farther away until it disappeared behind a plasma geyser._

"Captain," Paul waved a hand in my general direction. "Take a look."

I moved to watch the view screen.Raseen had magnified the incoming starship.There were a few moments before Dan's ship and the alien vessel would be in firing range of each other, so I took the chance to study the new Federation starship. 

It about half the size of a Galaxy class, but was apparently far more maneuverable and boasted greater weaponry.The saucer section was connected to engineering by a wide neck, and it's thick nacelles ended in curious triangular protrusions.I made a mental note to ask Dan about them later.

It's hull was a slightly darker gray than most ships common to the fleet, and its signage was more military in style.The standard phaser rings were on the top and on the underside of the saucer, but there was also a dark orange, crescent moon-shaped emitter array covering the forward section of the disk.It was lined with dull veins of red where the windows of ten forward should have been.Soon I was unable to distinguish such fine points because it veered into an attack pattern.

The ship's magnificent phaser emitter surged, then fired.It's wide beam rippled into the Tregonians' shields.There was a shower of rainbow colors as the wave collided with its intended target.

A few more blows were exchanged, and then the fighters entered the skirmish.They slowly and systematically raked the surface of the enemy vessel, their sleek shapes swarming this way and that.Dan's starship pulled back, and the fighters went in for the kill.They operated as a pack of wolves hunting down a giant Wildebeest; as one vessel.

I turned to Paul, "Pretty fast workers," I commented dryly.

"Yes, sir," Paul agreed.

Raseen spoke up, "I've contacted every pilot from the _Anna __May,," she announced. "Everyone made it out safely.The entire crew is accounted for, Captain."_

I shifted my gaze from the screen and back towards the viewport on my right.The _Anna May was nowhere to be seen, hidden behind countless layers of liquid plasma._

"We'll rendezvous with the _Odyssey just outside the Badlands as soon as they successfully dispatch of the Tregonian Scavenger," Plin stated._

I turned to look at the _Odyssey and its foe one last time.But then they too disappeared behind a plasma geyser, and our tiny fleet of shuttles exited the Gamma Quadrant Badlands, and re-entered cold, dark space._

"Now," I said to Dan Doyle, Raseen Plin--anyone who would listen, "would someone mind telling me what this is all about?"

It was later--at least a half-hour since the Tregonian ship had been vanquished--I had been re-united with Jamie, and had reported Parker and Neal's passing to her so she could make up the necessary certificates of death to submit to Starfleet Medical.It was a shame that such talented personnel must occasionally be lost in the line of duty--but what they did was for Starfleet--and Starfleet makes note of any sacrifice, no matter how small.Little did I know that they were only the first in what would be a long line of casualties.

Paul, Raseen, and myself were sitting with Dan in his observation lounge on the _Odyssey NX-1905._

"Well, I suppose," Dan started at Plimn's urging, "that it all began a little over three months ago when we picked up the first Tregonian W-transmission.Now, a W-transmission," he held up his hand to stop my questions, "is basically the Treg's main means of long-range transportation.It's quick, easy, and... affordable--that is it would be if you had their technology and the materials to work with.

"Anyway, that wormhole you and Mr. Plack were investigating just a short hour ago was one end of the Tregonians W-T.This end--the one that we see--is always very unstable; plus it moves around a lot, on the Tregonian commander's order--and it has been busy lately, deploying spies supposedly to 'study our culture.'

"Whereas their end is perfectly maintained, and stays stationary," Dan paused. "Do you get what I'm saying?" He inquired of Paul and I.

When we nodded, he continued, "Lately, Starfleet Command thinks that they've picked up an offensive net being formed by all the spies on this side of the W-transmission.And from today's events, it looks like they were right," Dan concluded darkly.

I looked at my old chief engineer--Dan was only approximately the same age as I was--forty-three--but at present, he seemed much older.There were visible bags under the eyes in his long face, and his fine straw-colored hair was in a disheveled mess--even his normally perfect uniform looked rumpled.

"But why didn't we know about it?" I asked, still puzzled by the whole secrecy thing.

"It was unnecessary," Raseen offered simply. "We didn't want to panic anyone just in case our findings turned out baseless." 

"What I want to know, is where this ship and all those new fighters came from," Paul spoke up. "When did the Federation have time to build them?They have to work 24-7 on reconstructing the rest of the fleet."

At this, Dan brightened a little bit, as he always did when he talked of starships and they're design, "At first when Admiral Watson submitted the plans for them, they were put to the bottom of the heap--but when Command got word that this new species--the Tregonians--were sneaking around, we got bumped to the top.I myself supervised the construction of the _Odyssey--it's quite a little ship, really."_

"Well, this starship I can understand," I allowed. "But how did you keep the manufacturing of the fighters a secret?"

Dan grinned, and touched a button on the table, "Ensign Yero, would you send pilot 001 of the fighter _Maverick to the observation lounge, please?"_

"Right away, sir," came the reply.

"I think he'll be more adept at answering that question," Dan said secretively.

A few moments later, the door chimed, "Come," Dan called.  
Edward Reagan's lanky form stood in the doorway.

"Risa?" Paul asked after Ed had sat down explained about Starfleet's secret construction site on the recreational planet. "You mean all this time you've been hiding out on Risa?" Edward nodded. "How'd you manage that?"

"Well, mostly," Ed began, and I focused my attention on his gravely voice, "we stayed deep underground in an old factory left over from the days when Risa used to be a mining planet.And when we did need something from the surface, we only sneaked out under the cover of darkness--it worked like a charm," he grinned.

"We also had the experience of Lieutenant Commander La Forge and Commander Worf to guide us," Ed went on. "Seeing those two in action--Geordi helping Dan with the design of the _Odyssey, and Worf working with me on the fighters--was a thrill all in itself."_

"Yeah," Paul said, sensing Ed was finished. "Those fighters are something else; the Federation has never had anything like them on their side before."

"The Federation has never even _allowed stuff like that on their side before," Ed corrected. "These puppies are mean--down-right savage--and specially manufactured to fight the Tregonians."_

"Which means that after this 'war' Starfleet is expecting is over and done with, all knowledge of the fighters and their design will probably have to be scrapped and forgotten," Dan put in."But that doesn't mean that we can't enjoy them now," he added, his mouth turning upward in a small smile.

"In fact," Raseen started. "I think I'm authorized to maybe... let you check them out for yourselves?" At this she turned her gaze towards Ed. "Am I right in this assumption, Lieutenant?"

"Absolutely," Ed nodded his head in a very business-like manner. "Right this way to fighter-bay three." He gestured in the direction of the door.

Slowly, Paul and I both rose from our seats and followed our old friend.

"This over here is the typical Ecraseur class fighter," Edward gestured to a obviously short-range vehicle christened the U.S.S. _Gambit. "Note the sleek design, the transparasteel canopy, and the type four phaser emitters.Now," he continued. "That stuff's all pretty normal.Next I'll show you why you have to be over eighteen to drive one of these babies."_

Ed moved around to the cock-pit of the knife-like fighter, and pressed the release button.The clear canopy lifted with an almost inaudible hiss of escaping air.Ed leaned into the hole it left behind so he could point out different systems to Paul and myself.Raseen and Dan stood off to the side and took in Ed's narration as well.

"Here," he said, pointing to a mass of cables and little blinking lights behind the padded pilot's chair, "is the shield generator--an experimental model from the D'eran series.And here," he pointed to a button on the fighter's control panel, "is the release that fires the fighter's payload of micro-torpedoes--Bensanm series," now Ed straightened up and closed the _Gambit's canopy. "And finally, the body of this machine is made completely of a new kind of tritanium mesh--strongest stuff around," Mr. Reagan dusted his hands off, then grinned. "These are the Federation's new 'bad boys.'And best of all," he reached into the tiny pouch at his hip, "they're easily compatible," finally, he pulled out a small hexagonal disk, "with today's top-of-the line photon disk system," he grinned again. "What's the gift of flight without the gift of music?"_

Paul sniggered.

"But Lieutenant," I protested, "all of the things you say make these ships great have either been discontinued or are illegal--Bensanm and D'eran have been in jail for the past three, four years because un-safe, unreliable theories have killed too many people."

Edward's red eyebrows shot up and away from his large brown eyes, "Exactly my point," then he smiled again. "Let me tell you: if there is a war like Command thinks there will be, Starfleet will need all the help it can get--our fleet is still only up to sixty percent efficiency," at this Ed's expression turned grim, a mirror image of Dan's countenance earlier that day in the lounge. "The Borg war last year really hurt us--frankly, I don't know if the Federation could withstand another conflict so soon without breaking a few rules; taking a few risks."

"This is beginning to sound more serious then I thought," I murmured. "And if what we saw not two hours ago was any display of the Tregonian's power, then by no means can this be taken lightly," I turned to Raseen and Dan. "You must have connections with Head Admiral Watson--what does he want me to do?"

"Funny you should ask," Raseen said.

"I don't find this situation very amusing, Commander," I replied stiffly.

"Well then," Dan spoke up. "Allow me to formally welcome you to the _Odyssey--your new command..."_

Starfleet Admirals are born tacticians, natural leaders--and they also have the uncanny ability to make you feel smaller and weaker then the smallest Belzoidian flea in their presence.

Head Admiral Watson was no exception.

It had been three days since that fateful investigative mission to the Badlands, and I was just now picking up my full assignment from Command. 

"With all due respect, sir," I began again. "I don't see what 'waiting around for a few days' will accomplish.Starfleet is almost positive there will be a war in view of the Tregonian's recent actions.I don't see why we don't at least start sending out regular patrols."

"We want to wait until the Tregs make their first move," Watson stood from his chair behind his massive desk. "--And if they don't do so within the next week, _I will."_

I scrunched down in my own chair.I still didn't see his reasoning, but thought better of saying so.

The next few moments were passed by means of uncomfortable silence.Then the Admiral came to life again.

"Now--let's get on with the meeting, shall we?" He pulled out a PADD and keyed up the information he needed on it's tiny screen. "The next thing I would like to discuss with you is your senior crew roster," Watson walked slowly over to a large blank screen on the wall of his office and activated it. "Computer," he spoke to the familiar voice activated central computer that connected all of Command and most of Starfleet as well, "interface with this PADD device and show--on screen one--the crew roster for the _Odyssey 1905."_

"Crew roster, _Odyssey 1905," the computer repeated in it's prissy female voice. "Updated version?"_

"Yes," Watson consulted his PADD. "The updated one."

"Working," the computer said, then viewer one lit up with a portrait of me on one half of it and some small apparently biographical print on the other half.It was an old picture, taken probably about a year ago when I still had my hair short. "Commanding officer: Captain Peter Schwartz," now my face disappeared and was replaced by Paul's no- neck personage. "Executive officer: Commander Paul Plack.Second officer: Commander Raseen Plin," now the screen showed Raseen; and so on. "Tactical officer: Lieutenant Commander Edward Reagan.Chief engineering officer: Lieutenant Commander Daniel Doyle.Chief medical officer: Jamie Schwartz.Ship's counselor: Julie Chase," after this last name, the computer paused. "Do you wish to view the secondary staff?"

"No, computer," Watson held up his hand. "That will be all," then the Admiral looked at me. "I trust you are familiar with all of the senior staff?"

"Hm," I allowed. "All except for that last name--Julie Chase, I believe it was?" Watson nodded. "Yes.I don't believe I've ever worked with her."

"That's probably because you've never been in need of a psychiatrist before," Watson returned to his desk. "Trust me--she's a good officer, and an excellent counselor.She's also a full Betazoid; mentored by Deanna Troi of the _Enterprise, you know."_

"Ah," I said in recognition. "But tell me, Admiral... why would we need a ship's counselor?We're going to war."

"You'd be surprised at how many severe psychological cases develop during a period of war.And I don't think you want to lose any of your future crew members to paranoia or suicidal tendencies brought on by extreme stress."

"I see what you mean," I replied, taking in all the Admiral was saying. "Is there anything else?"

"Just one more thing," Watson held up his hand. "Due to a recent rescheduling, and some last minute string pulling, we've managed to hook you a partner for front-line patrol in the Badlands."

"Who, sir?" my cloned eyes did a little flip in their sockets in their version of a blink.I could still blink naturally of course, but it was no longer necessary.

"Who else but the best in the fleet?You'll be working with the U.S.S. _Enterprise E and her crew."_

I nodded slowly--the _Enterprise E: the sixth incarnation since the original legendary Constitution class vessel Commanded by James T. Kirk.I could have said a great many things--I could have at least said thank you.But all that came out was, "Yes, sir.Is that all, sir?"_

"Yes, Captain, dismissed," Watson waved his hand vaguely in my direction.

At his bidding, I walked slowly out of the Admiral's office, and into the corridors of Starfleet Command; San Francisco, contemplating the events of our meeting.

**Captain's LogStardate: 56708.9:Two days ago, the Tregonians attacked and destroyed Federation outposts Tangaren and Zailian.So--by order of Starfleet Command--we of the _Odyssey have rendezvoused with the __Enterprise, and are currently patrolling the Tregonian's W-T for any attempt on their part to send further troop enforcement.So far the line has been quiet--but constant drills are being run to keep both crews on their toes._**

Still, neither the former nor the latter have had much real battle experience, save for the two Borg Wars and a few scattered skirmishes.

The Federation is not only worried about it's crewer's lack of experience, but also about it's lack of starships.Frankly, I'm told, the Borg War last year has seriously depleted our fleet--but with new additions such as the fighters and the _Odyssey, the Federation believes we'll at least have a fighting chance._

I passed through my ready room doors smoothly, and stepped onto the thin teal carpet of the bridge.I looked slowly around, giving my new command a good once over.It was indeed a much more involved bridge then even the _Stiletto had had.Conn and ops were not in their traditional places in front of the command area but in opposing niches behind the set of three chairs that would be filled by myself, the Commander, and the Counseler.An ensign named Farel Hail was manning ops, and a lieutenant named Michael Green was manning the conn.The pilotstation--worked by Ms. Plin--was down in the "pit" at the extreme front of the bridge, the viewscreen towering above it.Science one and two were strategically placed at either side of the cylindrical bridge module.Tactical--instead of being a single horse shoe-shaped console--had been split down the middle, Ed manipulating the right side behind Paul's chair._

I started to move towards my chair in the dim red lighting emanating from several glossy panels along the walls.No, this didn't signify that anything was wrong with the ship's illumination processes; it was just a reminder that the ship was fully alert and battle ready.

"Anything to report, Commander?" I inquired as I sat down next to my first officer.

Paul shook his head, "Nothing out of the ordinary, Captain--the _Enterprise reports the same conditions."_

"Any word from Command?" I put forth another question.

"None, sir... but Deep Space 9 reports that Earth is almost 53% through it's garrison sequence, and they estimate another five days will be needed to complete it.DS9 also sends salutations from the Klingon and Vulcan fleets who have joined our own outside the Bajoran Worm hole to lie in wait for the first wave of Tregonians."

"Well," I grunted, "if the Tregs want the Milky Way, they'll have to go through us first."

Hm.I stopped then to think about what I had just said.That _was they're goal, wasn't it?It brought things into perspective.This wasn't just the Alpha Quadrant we were fighting for--it was our entire galaxy.The four quadrants.But it was the Federation who had first angered the Tregonians.Doubtless that fact would make Command their first target._

And Command meant Earth--and Earth meant Tianna.I felt a hollow gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.Images flashed before my eyes; horrible images of what would happen to my little daughter--not to mention the population of Earth itself--if the Tregonians managed to reached it before the garrison was completed.

But then a bigger question rose from the ashes of the first.The Federation was one of the most influential societies in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants.If it fell prey to the evil Tregonians, that would pretty much hand them political control of half the galaxy.

I shivered, "They won't get through us.They can't."

"Don't worry, Captain," Ed answered my unintended question from his place at tactical.I turned to face him, and saw that he was no longer wearing a normal uniform, but a baggy black jumpsuit with streaks of gold running up the sides and over the shoulders.An unfamiliar variation of the Starfleet delta was pinned to his narrow chest.I frowned, and almost asked him why he was out of uniform, but then I remembered that he was a pilot and this must be the new pilot fatigue Command had issued.

Edward continued, oblivious to my examination, "Yes, sir.With me at the _Odyssey's tactical, and Worf over there working the __Enterprise's weapons, I'd say those Tregs are as good as gone--not to mention the huge compliment of fighters we're both carrying.And besides," he went on with a wave of his hand, "our job is only to hold them off until Earth can complete it's garrison sequence."_

"Of course," a new voice spoke up. "I believe we'll be able to do that and possibly more--I can sense the confidence on this ship; on the _Enterprise." _

I looked over to my right where the sound had originated--and found myself staring into the liquid eyes of the new ship's counselor, Julie Chase.She was an ageless sort of woman--she could be anywhere from twenty to forty; though I never inquired about one's years.She had long dark hair to match her tall, thin frame, and wore a standard blue collared sciences uniform.

"To be sure, Counselor, to be sure," I replied. "I'm just worried that we might be sitting on a huge psychological time bomb."

The Counselor cocked her head a bit to the left, "How so?"

"Well, take for example, a piece of Terkarion china.Sure, it's fine to put on display; to look at--but submit it to the slightest amount of stress," I shifted my weight as I continued with the explanation, "and... crack... it shatters into a million pieces.Personally, I feel that this crew has never really known stress such as we are about to face--and though they show no sign of weakness now, who knows how much more they can take."

At this, Julie shook her head, "No," she said firmly. "I have studied each crewer's psychological profile myself many times over.And from that--even without my Betazoid senses; just by calling on my psychology training--I can tell for sure that every individual on this ship is quite stable--and can endure a considerable amount of stress."

_Hm, I smiled to myself, __beaten again.This was the tenth little psychological argument I had lost over the last four days.Many of the others were much more complicated, and I rated this one as rather tame.But still, every time myself and the Counselor fell upon a discussion such as this, she was always able to blow my one year training at the Academy out of the proverbial water._

I smiled again--a good sparring partner was what one really needed to keep one on his toes.

"Sickbay to bridge," a very familiar voice brought me out of my musings.Jamie.

"Bridge here, Doctor," I replied generically, though I had been waiting for her call for over ten minutes now. "Do you have a final report for me?"

"Yes, sir," Jamie replied slowly, as if she were having some sort of trouble forming her syllables; I could almost see her wide-set eyes clouding over, it was such a severe variation of her normal method of speech.Then I heard her pause, and take a deep breath. 

"Is something wrong, Doctor?" Paul asked--obviously he had made note of it as well.

"No," she assured us, her voice slowly returning to it's normal speed and clarity. "Nothing, sirs."

I was about to press her further, but, I decided against it and produced another question instead, "Report, Dr. Schwartz?"

"Right," Jamie began. "To start off with, I'd like to let you know that sick bays one and two have both been fully converted into emergency medical facilities, and that the EMH has been activated in both," there was a slight bzzt to signify that our new com system was still working out some of it's glitches. "Two medical teams of four each are manning the two bays."

"Have you assigned team leaders to supervise in each bay?" I asked a standard question.

"Um," I could hear Jamie keying the lock off a PADD to look up the information, "Yes.Team Alpha will be lead by nurse... Chelsea Watson... and team Beta will be lead by nurse Corinne DeDaria."

"Hmm.The second name I'm familiar with," I allowed--Corinne was an old friend of mine and Jamie's.We had been especially close to her parents--but after they had died in Gargion Massacre, we had become almost like a foster family to the girl.She was a promising doctor, and had recently graduated the academy with honors. "But the first nurse--Watson--I've never heard of her.Do we have her medical record aboard?"

"I think so," Jamie paused again--but then. "Nope.We only have a biographical.Says here she's twenty-six, and the daughter of Head-Admiral Alan Watson, and Federation council member Donna Watson--need anything else?"

"No," I held up my hand," that's enough.If I want more, I'll request her medical record be sent here from Command."

I heard Jamie putting her PADD down, "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes, Doctor," I said. "Bridge out."

There was a soft chime as the com channel was cut.

"That's the last report," Paul pushed a few more panels on his console.

"The ship is now officially battle-ready," I agreed.

"Yes," Julie began again. "And as far as I'm concerned, it went rather well...and with an inexperienced crew besides."She raised an eyebrow in my direction.

Inside, I laughed at her comment.Maybe things weren't so hopeless after all.


	4. 

"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering.

"So with this new dilithium converter," Dan Doyle gestured to a massive cylindrical device sticking like a leech to the pulsating warp core, "our engines can operate at twenty percent above standard efficiency."

"Good, Lieutenant, good," I responded, turning my eyes from the flowing colors before me."Weapons systems have been upgraded too I suppose?"

"Yes, sir," Dan replied, moving to another console on the core table--or the 'pool table' as it was affectionately called."As you can see," he keyed up some numbers and equations on the pool table's main screen."Weapons are operating on an elevated level...and crew quarters on decks 13 and 14 have been readily converted into quantum torpedo storage, while decks 15, 16, 17 have been cleared for fighter storage." 

I looked around the vast engineering room in awe."I can't believe I didn't make it down here sooner.This place is even bigger than a Galaxy class's engine room."

"It is quite a site," Dan conceded."It's definitely a lot roomier than my old workspace on Risa."

I sighed. I could have been an engineer--but I had chosen command.I had chosen the road of responsibility.

"Carry on, Lieutenant," I said, then smiled. "I think I'm gonna call it a night, Dan.See you tomorrow at 0700 on the bridge."

"Right, Pete.I've got an engine diagnostic to run, and then I think I'm gonnaturn functions over to Lieutenant Agilet and take some night leave myself."

"Hmph.Well, we'll have to enjoy it while we can," I yawned. "Once the Tregonians start making use of their W-T, I don't think we'll be seeing much sleep."

"Enjoy it while we can," I heard Dan echo as I passed out of engineering and into a dimly lit corridor.

Yes.Soon we would have more then enough action.Soon, our lives would be threatened in a way they had never been before.

We were at Death's door.

And the chime had been rung...

I woke with a start.I blinked my eyes rapidly to clear their optical servos.I was on the _Odyssey, I recalled as my memory returned with sleep induced sluggishness._

For a moment, I lay there, sleep threatening to claim me once again.But then I saw a light.A light out of place in the simulated night.I sat up and turned my head.Jamie was gone, and the iridescent bed-sheets on her side were in chaos.

I again did a 180, focusing on the light.It was coming from the small bathroom off our quarters.As I noticed a deep thrumming originating from the room, I settled back down.Jamie was running the water processor, that was all.My head had nearly found it's way back my pillow when I heard an almost inaudible thump.

I was up again in an instant.I slowly lowered my feet to the floor, and padded over in the direction of the light.

I entered the room to find Jamie on her knees, her eyes tightly shut.I bent to touch shoulder, "Jamie, are you OK?"

Slowly her lids flickered and she raised her head to look me in the eye."Huh?" she asked groggily.

"Jamie, what's up?What's wrong--are you sick?"I repeated my question.

"No," she shook her head."I just have a headache--a migraine.I think," her face cleared.

I frowned."Is that it?"I asked, not a little suspiciously.

"Sure," she smiled."I'm a doctor--I know.Go back to sleep.

"You're positive?"I questioned, remembering the com scene earlier that day.

"I'm _positive," she rose to her feet and kissed me lightly on the cheek._

Still frowning, I silently returned to bed.A few minutes later, I felt Jamie climb in beside me.

And then, I was asleep.

"Captain on the bridge," Paul announced as I stepped through the turbolift and into the view of my senior staff; and I nodded in recognition.

"Carry on," I supplied the traditional response. "Report?" I inquired, coming to a halt before Paul's chair.

Paul looked to his side console, "You have a communiqué from the _Enterprise, sir; it's Captain Picard."_

"How long's he been waiting?"

"About five minutes," Mr. Plack reported.

"I'll take it in my ready room."

"Aye, sir."

I keyed my personal desk display onto a secure Federation frequency, and started to speak, "Captain Picard?Captain Schwartz here."

And in exactly .008 of a second, the Federation emblem on my screen disappeared and was replaced by the bald countenance of Jean-Luc Picard."Captain," Picard said in way of greeting."I just thought you'd like to know that we've been picking up some very odd taychon emission on the micro-elec scale with our long range sensors.From your recent experiences with this particular wormhole, does this mean anything?"

I shrugged grimly, "Maybe.But it's better to be safe then sorry.Bring the Enterprise around 80 degrees, power weapons, and prepare fighters for launch."

"Of course," Picard responded, "Enterprise out."

I allowed myself a slight grimace.

This could be it.

"Continue monitoring the W-T for fluctuations," I commanded as I returned to the bridge."The _Enterprise has already picked up some said variations; and we'll be in constant radio communication until--and perhaps after--those micro-fluxes are confirmed."_

The bridge crew nodded collectively.

"Pilots to your fighters," I ordered over the intercom."Prep fighters 01 to 40,"I turned to tactical. "You too, Mr. Reagan--I'll get Mr. Benson to man your station."

"Sir," Ed nodded and left the bridge.

Now all we had to do was wait.

"Captain!" a shout from Commander Plin brought me out of a silent reverie."Tachyons have been charged; the W-T is becoming stable!"

"A ship's coming through." Lieutenant Green seconded.

"Identification?" I demanded, adrenaline surging through me.

"Markings match those of previously observed Tregonian vessels," Green replied."But size and shape dictate a variation the computer is not familiar with.I'm reading5 kilometers in length and…3 kilometers wide."

"Armament?" I inquired sharply; if not viciously.

Green shook his head, "I can't get a reading, sir, the W-T must be affecting our sensors in some way that we could not anticipate."

"All hands to battle stations!" Paul ordered."All bridge crew to the battle bridge!"

I gazed at the enormous Tregonian ship as it appeared on the _Odyssey's forward viewer.I shivered involuntarily, thinking: How many of these things did the Treg's have in stock?Fifty--a hundred? I stepped from the bridge and into the emergency side turbo-lift deep in thought._

Ten seconds later I arrived at the battle bridge.It was certainly a much grittier version of the main command area.First off, it was almost completely dark, the panel's being self-lighting.The main viewer was also much smaller and circular in shape.In contrast, tactical was a much bigger, more involved panel, covering an entire half of the bridge.

I sat down in my command chair, "Report."

Plin sat down at the conn, "The Tregs are powering up weapons systems…"

"Then it's up to us to make the first move," I decided. "Bay Command," I radioed, "launch fighters--evasive pattern beta five."

"Aye, sir," a male voice replied. "Launching now."

There was a hiss of air as the bay decompressed and the fighters flew off to engage the enemy.

A small display to the left of my own chair blinked signaling that the _Enterprise had launched her own fighters as well.I turned to tactical, "Mr. Benson, fire phaser crest at your discretion."_

"Sir," Benson pressed some colored panels on his keypad. "Firing now."

I sat back and braced myself as the ship began to surge.The power of the phaser crest was incredible.It combined conventional phaser technology with the experimental beam-length theory; so instead of a needle-like beam being produced, the phaser crest created a wave of awesome phased energy.

Suddenly, the wave swept across the battlefield, striking the Tregonian cruiser head on.

"Damage?" Paul asked, almost hopefully.

But Green's face said it all, "Not even partial damage to their shields, sirs."

I smiled tightly, "Then fire again, Lieutenant--wave type--epsilon."

And for the second time, Bensonjumped into action, "Firing… now."

And again, searing orange energy met cool, calculated, iridescent shielding.

But this time, we met with better results, "Tregonian vessel's frontal shields are down to 85%!" Lt. Green announced triumphantly.

I checked my little screen once again.Now there were so many fighters surrounding the cruiser we would have to be careful not to hit them.

"Captain!" Hail interjected. "The Tregonian ship is _regenerating."_

Startled, I was about to provide tactical with a vector at which to fire when the deck abruptly became like jello, and I was thrown to it with tremendous force.But unfortunately, it turned out to be much harder then the forgiving substance just mentioned.

***

"I want that sensor tower targeted!" Ed transmitted coordinates to the fighter _Quicksilver--or __Silver for short.He pulled up sharply to avoid a stray phaser blast, as he continued speeding along the uneven surface of the massive cruiser, "I want it completely taken out--the less sensors on this puppy, the better."_

Ed eased back on the throttle in his own fighter, _Maverick.Dog fights in space were an entirely new experience for him.Sure, he'd participated in zero-G combat exercises, but having that feeling assault him __inside of a ship was something else entirely._

He powered up his ship's phaser emitters and let loose a barrage of liquid fire.Then, noticing one of his ships out of place, he switched his sub-space radio back on.

"_Slicer!" Edward shouted. "Why aren't you attacking the Treg's forward phaser generator?"_

"Sir," a nervous female voice replied. "I… I can't.I'm pulling out--I'm heading back to the _Odyssey."_

"You can't do that!We need every last drop of fighter blood available!"

"No.I'm pulling out.I can't--"

Ed shielded his eyes as the _Slicer plowed into the Tregonian cruiser's outer shields sending red-blue ripples in all directions; creating a similar splash of loss spreading across his heart--the feeling of losing a comrade in battle was one he could never learn to ignore. He keyed up his accelerator and sped on, once again scanning the enemy ship's hull for potential targets._

I raised my face from the metal grill-work floor of the battle bridge, an eerie sense of deja vu creeping over me, "Damage…" I tasted blood in my mouth, and I found that I had trouble moving my jaw, "… report," I barely managed the last word.

Surprisingly, Plin was still in her chair, "Port nacelle's suffered a direct hit… and shields are down to 60%!"

Smoke poured into the cramped bridge--the lights flickered, then shut down completely.

"Transfer power from life-support on decks 14 and 15 to weapons, and execute evasive pattern delta!" I picked myself up off the floor, straightened my uniform and wiped blood from the bottom half of my face.

The ship rocked as the evasive pattern was put into play, "Bring us about, Ms. Plin, vector 096 degrees.And Mr. Benson--fire on my mark."

Both nodded, and in a second Raseen spoke, "Coming up on said vector, sir… now."

"Fire at will, Mr. Benson," I directed.

And another wave of deadly energy shot from the saucer section of the _Odyssey._

"Report?" I called again, feeling like that word had crossed my lips all to often in the past ten minutes.

"I can't tell, sir," Green reported. "Our sensors are being scrambled again--but we must have hit something. Secondary sensors are reading a massive explosion directly off the starboard bow; but they can't pin-point it."

Plin turned in her chair, "But the Tregonians were off to port…"

"Then our phaser vector must have been way off target," Benson commented.

"Captain," Plin said. "we're moving steadily towards the explosion.Impulse power has been cut, but we're still drifting."

"Reverse thrusters," I commanded.

"No good, sir," Raseen said.

"Impact In ten seconds," Green conceded.

"Options?" I questioned.

"Five seconds."

Again silence greeted my ears.

Then-- 

Impact--

Silence.

Emptiness.

Voices, faces, names, locations--all superimposed over a horrific bloody background.

But one specific voice rose loud and clear above the rest.A small voice; a helpless voice.And still, this one drew the brunt of my attention.

It was the inflections of my young daughter's voice.

She was calling, pleading with me.

Saying… saying something; though I couldn't quite catch it--but I could see the sadness and the pain in her scrunched up face.

Something about waking up--something about--

Desperate--pain--destruction…

Jamie was shaking me gently.

I opened my eyes.Jamie was the one pleading with me, not Tianna.

I sat up slowly and looked around.I was on the main bridge of the _Odyssey.The lights were painfully bright, and the carpet soft beneath me.I was surrounded by medical personal._

Hm.They were moving their mouths, but no sound met my ears.

I looked beyond them, thinking I would see Paul, or Dan...

But instead, I saw Earth--war-torn and battle damaged.I saw command in ruins and the Federation's entire space fleet in pieces encircling our once great planet.I saw once again my daughter's bloodied face, her usually golden hair stained a striking crimson.And suddenly everyone around me was dripping bright red blood.

The painful light encircling me grew brighter--

Brighter--

I woke up; shook my head to clear my mind and slowly scanned my surroundings.

This time everything was heavily shrouded with an aura of reality.Red lights blinked on and off along the ridged walls.I stood, moving each of my limbs experimentally as I did so.For leverage, I grabbed the arm of Julie's chair, slicing my palm from my thumb to my fore-finger in the process.

The battle bridge was a wreck.No need to ask for a damage report--it was pretty much self explanatory.

Conn was blown out, and the main viewer was a blank gray wall.I wiped my bleeding hand unceremoniously on the head rest of my beige command chair, then gingerly touched my face.It too was covered with literally hundreds of tiny diamond-shaped, grillwork incisions.Probably from when I fell, I decided--though I had no recollection of falling.

The condition of the rest my senior staff was little better then the bridge itself.They were all either draped over their chairs or sprawled on the floor as I had been.

I almost bent to check Paul's pulse, but an easier way came to mind.I quickly changed direction, and went to search out the bridge's emergency medical locker.The med-tricorder included in the said package would be able to assess the entire bridge crew's condition all at once.

I remembered the approximate location of the locker, so I started scrounging around in that general area..Finally, I found it--still intact--under a fallen console marked "TAC-1."

I clicked it open and pulled out the supplied tricorder.Keying it to alpha sequence--scan and report--I began checking out each crewer's life-signs.

Paul, Raseen, Julie, and Benson all checked out fine--all I had to do was hypo them back to conciseness.But Lieutenant Green was another matter.His vital signs were off the chart.I read massive internal bleeding, as well as severe trauma to the skull and cerebellum.Medical attention was a necessity.

I tapped my com-badge, "Schwartz to sick bay," there was a quiet humming, but that was all in way of reply.I frowned. "Schwartz to main bridge," now I tried to radio the skeleton crew I had left in charge of the brunt of the ship's functions.Nothing, "Schwartz to Fighter Wing Leader--Ed, are you there?" But again, there was no answer. "_Odyssey to __Enterprise," I shook my head._

Paul came up behind me, rubbing his neck where I had injected the hypo, "Captain.Com's out?" He started, speaking jerkily.Probably because of the strength of the dosage I had given him.I knew I should have paid more attention at Jamie's lectures--she had always drug me along, but nine out of ten times I had had something else on my mind.

Well, I shrugged mentally, live and learn--Paul would be slightly drowsy due to my mistake, but nothing more.

To his question, though, I nodded, "Yes, Commander.We've lost contact with the fighter wing and the _Enterprise as well," I tried to activate long/short range sensors. But the viewer and all of the battle bridge's stations stayed dark and cold.I slammed my fist down on the console in a brief flash of anger, sending a spider web of cracks skittering across it's surface._

Then I heaved a great sigh.Next thing I knew, I wouldn't be visiting Julie for psychological sparring, but as one of her patients.

"We've got to get back up to the main bridge," I announced suddenly. "Com's down, sensors are inoperative--in short, we're cut off from the rest of the ship.Options?"

"We could try the turbolift," Julie suggested simply.

"I doubt it would still be operational.It seems like we on the battle bridge got hit the hardest," I commented, pondering. "But it is, of course, worth a shot."

"What about Michael?" Benson gestured to indicate Green's crumpled form.

"We'll have to leave him," I said grimly. "If a med-team can make it here in time, fine.But we have neither the resources, nor the time to help him now... Commander, Mr. Benson..." I nodded in the direction of the lone turbolift connecting the _Odyssey's war command area to the remainder of it's vast space._

"Sir," Both Paul and Carl said in unison, and moved towards their pre-destined target.

Bracing themselves on either side of the double doors, they each dug their fingernails into the minuscule crack that just barely existed between the two sections of the turbolift entryway.They tightened their stance and pulled for all they were worth.I could see their muscles strain even through their heavy uniforms.

There was a screeching sound, and the doors began to slowly retreat from each other.Finally, with a hiss of escaping air, the lift slid open,

But when the doors parted, "There's no car," Julie murmured.

I peered down the empty shaft.There was the lift-car, broken and battered at the bottom of the abyss, "It certainly doesn't look like we'll be riding the car up," I stated the painfully obvious.

Benson rubbed his chin, then moved his hand up to finger his Bajoran ceremonial earring.He himself was not Bajoran, but his wife, Kara was; and she insisted that he wear an ear covering, "Hm.My thoughts exactly, Captain," then he gazed at the strong woven fiber wire running up the tube, into the blackness.That wire had once been used as a the emergency lift's life line--but now I suspected that Carl Benson had a very different use in mind.

He turned back to the rest of us, confirming my previous thought, "I think now would be a great time to build up that old upper body strength..."

"Uh," I heard Benson burst through the above turbolift doors and collapse in a heap on the floor of the main bridge.

Next, I saw Paul slide through, helped by waiting bridge crewers.Then went Julie, then Plin.Finally I popped through, into the semi-darkness of the _Odyssey's command module.Crewmen Tyler and Ensign Stevenson helped me to my feet, then closed the emergency doors behind me._

It looked like the main bridge had faired far better then it's now inoperative counter part.Here only a few lights were blown, and most of the consoles appeared to be intact--with the exception of Science 1, which was coverless, and sporting cracked isolinear circuitry.

I walked over to Lieutenant Farel Hail, whom I had left in charge upon myself and the senior staff's departure, "Report, Lieutenant," I demanded, feeling an ache in my jaw.

"Sir," Hail stood from my chair. "Turbolifts are down, sir.Sensors, weapons and shields are also not responding," he paused, and I waited for more. "Communications were down, but have recently been repaired.Com channels to decks five through fifteen are operable, but transmissions to other decks cannot be put through without special calibration of the system."

"All right--progress," I nodded. "But keep working on those sensors--I'd like to know what exactly happened out there," I spoke into the com. "Schwartz to engineering."

There was a buzz, then Dan Doyle's voice came over--fuzzy, but clear enough to understand, "Doyle here.What happened up there?We came close to loosing warp containment!"

"Another time, Mr. Doyle.Engine status."

A few seconds later, Dan's voice returned, "I'm sorry, Captain, but right now, all we've got is limited impulse for the sensor saucer, and next to nothing for the main bulk of the ship.Warp drive is out of the question."

I grimaced.The sensor saucer had been attached in the place of the captain's yacht, but did us no good except on short range science missions, "I can't accept that, Lieutenant.Do you have a repair time estimate?"

I heard Dan draw a deep breath, then let it out in a big 'whoosh', "I estimate at least two, three hours for impulse, and up to five for warp drive.I'd say a total of six, maybe seven hours."

I cleared my throat, "Make it five, Mr. Doyle.It doesn't sound like the battle's still going on out there, but we could be in trouble if the Treg's decide to send any more warships through."

"Aye, sir," Dan replied, sounding more then a little tired.

As soon as he logged off, I spoke again, "Schwartz to sick bay."

"Sick bay here; this is Doctor Schwartz," Jamie's voice responded promptly.

"Casualty report, Doc--and, if possible, I'd like to know why we all blacked out a few minutes ago."

I heard Jamie sweeping some broken glass from her work space, and keying on her desk display, "Medical sensors report five deaths, and ten more wounded--but we can't seem to get sick bay doors open, so we can't mobilize any med-teams.Nurse DeDaria is presently trying to burn through them with one of our laser scalpels."

"OK," I nodded. "We'll send a two man security force down to help you out," I motioned to Tyler and Stevenson. "As you know, main turbo lifts are down.You'll have to make you're way there using only the emergency lift shafts. Remember," I turned to the two crewmen, "pump the handel three times, then tell the computer where you want to go," they nodded, then left the bridge.

"But as far as information on the last fifteen minutes, I can't help you much," Jamie continued. "All the internal med-sensors picked up was a ship-wide blackout."

"Ship-wide?" Paul inquired, entering the conversation.

"Uh huh," I could almost see Jamie nodding her head. "Records show that all nine-hundred and thirty-four people lost consciousness for approximately fourteen point three seconds.No explanation's available, except for the theory that whatever hit us shook us up pretty bad."

"Thank you, Doctor," I responded, though she had supplied no useful information. "Bridge out," I shut off the channel.

I moved to sit in the captain's chair--and, as always, drew a sort of power from it.It reassured me that I was indeed in control of this vessel.But then reality came flooding back, and I rubbed a hand over my grillwork face, "How long until we have any sensors, Mr. Hail?"

"At least two hours, Captain," Hail reported apologetically.

I frowned, knowing if the ship or whatever that had struck us was still within the vicinity, we would be highly vulnerable to even the smallest of it's particle weapons.

"Get on it, Lieutenant," I allowed. "And report to me the moment the array is back on-line."

"Yes, sir.Right away."

I pushed past an impossibly young ensign lugging an impossibly large engineering kit on the way to my quarters.When I arrived at my door, I paused before entering to rub my temples.I couldn't remember ever being that young.

Brushing the thought aside with a sigh, I pressed the keypad to my left and entered my quarters.

Suddenly, everything was quiet.The sounds of the corridor were cut off as soon as the doors slid shut and silence overwhelmed me.

For a second I stood motionless, letting the feeling sink in.Then I moved towards the replicater.

"_Roc'de'jino, extra cream," I spoke into the unit.There was a buzzing as a cup full of Klingon coffee materialized.As soon as it was whole, I picked it up and went over to sit on one of the two blue couches the cabin contained.Enjoying the serenity, I sipped my beverage and peered out the angular window and into the vastness of the badlands.I could only see a few feet from the ship because of the plasma interference, but it was better then staring at the blank walls of the cabin itself._

I could only guess as to what condition earth was in right now, or how the rest of the fleet had faired.I placed my mug down on the small end-table to my right.Apparently the war was still going on out there, or Starfleet would have sent some sort of rescue team to aid in the repair of our ship.

I squinted my eyes, and tried to sort out the electromagnetic mess that was the Badlands.I stared harder, trying to see through the red mass enshrouding our ship; searching for any sign of what was out there.Was there a fully armed Tregonian cruiser waiting to vaporize us the moment we show our first spark of awareness?

Hmph.I sat back as the now familiar feeling of helplessness washed over me; drenched me; saturated me.For the next two hours, I was faced with probably the most difficult task I would ever undertake.

I had to wait.

"Status report, Mr. Hail?" I inquired tiredly.

"I think we're about ready to give it a try," Farel closed the wall panel he had been working on.He sat up and dusted his hands off.

"Commander Plack, Counselor Chase, and Ms. Plin to the bridge," I announced over the com.A few moments later, Paul, Julie, and Raseen all exited the emergency turbolift and entered the bridge.

As soon as they were seated, I began issuing orders, "Ms. Plin, bring the forward sensor array on-line.Mr. Hail, get me that view screen."

"Aye, sir."

There was a humming.It started as a deep bass, then quickly escalated to a whining soprano.

"Sensors are back on-line!" Plin declared triumphantly.

I sat forward in my chair, sensing Julie and Paul lean forward in unison with myself, "Then by all means, Commander: power up the viewer, and let's take a look."

"Yes, _sir," Raseen responded. "Viewer operational."_

And suddenly, the seemingly blank metallic wall at the head of the bridge lit up with a strikingly vibrant semblance of the Gamma Quadrant Badlands.Relief flooded over me.There was no Tregonian cruiser within sensor range, "Commander Plin, do a long range sensor sweep of the Badlands.I want to know _exactly what's out there."_

There was a few moments of silence, and Plin reported, "No sign of any Tregonian vessels, sir.I'm reading several class IV plasma jets, some space dust/debris, and...," Raseen turned around in her chair, "the _Enterprise, sir!I'm reading the __Enterprise twenty degrees to port, about three-hundred kilometers away."_

"Condition?" I asked her pointedly, thinking this too good to be true.

I saw Plimn's brow wrinkle in concentration, "I can't tell from this distance, sir," she reported, trying to compensate.

"Open a channel," I put forth another suggestion, clinging to the fragile hope that the _Enterprise might still be operational and able to help us._

"No answer," Lieutenant Hail replied from the conn. "I'm getting electromagnetic static on all frequencies."

I sat back and rubbed my chin, deep in thought.

"Are we within transporter range, Lieutenant?" Paul asked the question even before I had a chance to open my mouth.

"Barely, sir.Transport is possible, but risky."

Instantly Paul stood, "Sounds like a good excuse to stretch the old legs.Captain?" He turned, awaiting my approval.

"Of course, Commander," I replied. "Take an away team over to investigate.If the _Enterprise is still in working order, report back to me on the severity of their ship and their crew's condition."_

"Aye, sir," Paul responded. "Plin, Benson, you're with me.Doctor Schwartz," he called into the com, "have an emergency medical team meet me in transporter room two.We're going on a little field trip."

As the blue energy of transport left Paul and his team, the sounds and the atmosphere of normal space returned.

Paul sniffed the air.It was extremely musty and stale.Most of the lights were blown.He motioned for everyone to switch on their wrist mounted torches.

Six hazy cones of light pierced the darkness and swept the room.As it seemed the most logical course of action, they had beamed directly to their fellow starship's bridge area.

But no familiar faces were there to greet them in the _Enterprise's once bustling command module.If fact, there were no signs of life at all._

"Ms. Plin," Paul inquired, "life signs?"

Raseen looked up from her glowing tricorder screen, "No life signs within a one-hundred meter radius, sir.Any further out then that, I can't even venture a guess."

"Right," Benson started. "We're going to have to try to reboot the main computer.If we're successful, we can make use of the internal sensors."

"Very good, Lieutenant," Paul agreed. "Get to work immediately.Doctor?" Paul turned to Jamie. "Take nurses Grenwen and Famoun and check the lower decks for survivors," Paul paused to scan the ground, and an odd feeling came over him.At first he couldn't decide what it was.Then it clicked, "And bodies," Mr. Plack held up a hand for everyone to stop what they were doing.Jamie and her team halted in mid-stride while Benson looked up from the terminal he was trying to access. "Isn't it strange that there are no bodies?"

"Maybe they managed to man the escape pods before the ship was disabled," Raseen suggested. "Or maybe the bridge had to be evacuated for some reason."

"Perhaps," Paul allowed, then shifted his eyes so that his gaze rested on Jamie. "But I want you and your team to report to me the moment you come across any--Starfleet or no."

"Yes, sir," Jamie replied, and resumed her journey towards the turbolift, finally passing through it's doors with Grenwen and Famon close behind.

In another instant Benson had also returned to his work, and the bridge was tomb silent once again.

"The entire ship's dead, Captain," Paul's deep voice came over the com in my ready room. "Main power's been drained, their dylithum has somehow reverted to it's dormant state, and life-support is failing fast."

A fresh wave of exhaustion swept over me, "What's the status of her crew, Mr. Plack?"

I heard some muffled clanking in the background, "Fortunately, it appears that eighty percent of the life-boats have been jettisoned.There are approximately thirty crew members still on board, but they are all dead.The Doc is bringing one back with her to perform an autopsy on it.She says there's some sort of accelerated decay factor effecting all of the corpses on the _Enterprise."_

"So we have to assume that the brunt of Picard's crew survived the attack and fled the vicinity," I concluded.

"We tried to access the ship's records, but there wasn't enough power remaining in the banks to view the logs and keep the main computer up and running."

"Very well," I responded. "Anything else to report, Commander?"

"We also found ten undamaged fighters still occupying the lower decks, sir," Paul continued. "If it's all right with you, I'll have them transported to the _Odyssey's own fighter storage."_

"Gladly," I nodded. "We lost most of our fighters in the battle.Any addition to our arsenal is quite welcome."

"Thank you, sir," Paul said. "We'll be returning in about twenty minutes, as soon as we shut everything down here."

"Carry on, Commander."

"Aye, sir.Plack out."


	5. 

"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering.

The door chime to my ready room tinkled softly.I looked up from the engine update I had been reading.

"Come," I called, and the door slid open to reveal Jamie.I smiled. "Doc, what can I do for you?"

But Jamie looked troubled.She handed me a PADD, "Here are the results from that autopsy I ran on one of the _Enterprise's crewmen."_

I slowly took the card from her and studied it carefully, "Yes," I allowed, though not understanding a word of it. "What is your point?"

"The point _is," she announced, taking the PADD from my outstretched hand, "that according to this autopsy, and the body's rate of decay, this man has been dead for--not five hours, not five days--but for five __years."_

"Five years?" I repeated skeptically. "How is that possible?"

Jamie shook her head, "It shouldn't be... unless it's some kind of after effect obtained from direct contact with a Tregonian beam weapon or something.I'm going to run some additional tests to see if I can come up with something concrete."

"Make it so, Doctor.I want to see some tangible results.In fact," I started, "I want--"

I was cut off by Paul's voice coming over the line, "Captain to the bridge," he called.

I turned to Jamie, "I'm sorry, but we'll have to continue trhis converstation another time.Please keep me posted on your progress."

"Sir," Paul said as I slid down in my seat in-between himself and Julie. "We just got a communication from Mr. Doyle down in engineering.The warp engines are tested and ready."

"Thank you, Commander," I paused and took in the entire bridge. "Status?"

"Shields are at eighty percent and holding, sir," Carl reported. "Weapons are limited, but operative." 

"Sensors are now operating at optimum efficiency," Raseen stated.   
"Impulse power at... ninety percent, and warp power is completely restored," Feral spoke at last.

"Commander?" I turned to my number one.

"Aye, sir," Paul responded, trying to mask his pleasure in giving the next order. "Computer, search and reserve file Jat'Naii."

"Working," the female voice reported. "Found: file 1019 Jat'Naii."

"Initiate, authorization: Plack, beta five Cantar."

"Authorization recognized," the computer conceded. "Activating sequence now."

The lights dimmed.Plin turned around, "What was that?"

"Cloaking device activated," the Computer answered Raseen's question for me.

Raseen cracked a smile, "Leave it to old Watson to think of something like this.I always knew he was a bit paranoid."

In response, I smiled a tight smile of my own, "Take us out, Ms. Plin, heading: 061 mark 2.And by the end of this war, you may learn to see Admiral Watson in a different light."

Plin, still grinning, answered with an affirmative, "Aye, sir.But do you think it's wise to leap right back into the fray so soon?"

"Ms. Plin," Paul put in plainly, "judging from the handiness with which these Tregonians dispatched with the _Enterprise, if we don't rejoin the fight soon, there might not be anything to go back __to..."_

Blue energy swirled around the _Odyssey in shifting, haphazard patterns.Invisible drops of "water" impacted the colored sides of the long blue tunnel we were presently engulfed in, creating ripples that extended off into infinity.The Bajorans called this region of space the Celestial Temple, or the Temple of the Prophets.But to Humans it had no real religious value.Rather, we saw it plainly as a means of transportation from the still mysterious Gamma Quadrant to the colonized, Federation Alpha Quadrant._

Suddenly, we were in normal space again, and the Temple gates had closed behind us.

I shook my head to clear the mild feeling of distortion always associated with traveling through trans-space, "Plin... get DS9 on screen, and open a channel directly to Captain Sisko.I need to know the status of the Ninth Fleet and how the first wave-front faired."

"Captain," Raseen began, "I think you should take a look at this," and with a few pressed keys, Plin transferred the image displayed on her console to the main viewer.

In response there were several gasps, and a few uttered curses.I, myself, sat in silence, my voice stolen from me by the very intensity of the scene.

Deep Space Nine was in ruins.

The command area had collapsed in on itself, and upper pylon two was gone.All three of the lower pylons were also damaged.The station was obviously beyond repair and uninhabitable.

"The battle is not going well," Julie said plaintively.

"But if this happened to DS9," Benson began, "then what happened to Ninth Fleet?"

"The real question is," Paul stated, "if this happened to DS9, and Ninth fleet is either defeated or subdued, then..."

"Ms. Plin," I broke in, my finger tips digging tensely into the rests of my chair, "set course for earth... maximum warp!"

"Coming up on earth," Plin whispered, her voice cracking.

"Drop to impulse on my mark," I replied in the same somber tone.I mentally counted the light years. "Mark."

And the _Odyssey was back in Eienstinian space._

"Captain!" The voice of my tactical officer cut through my thoughts. "We're on a collision course with some space debris," Benson squinted at his read outs. "But I can't quite make out what it is."

"Ms. Plin, plot a course around the object.And Mr. Hail," I turned in my seat," get it on screen."

The viewer blinked on.Literally millions of rock fragments were floating around aimlessly--colliding with each other, roaming free.And they were all converging in one place, "Hail," I said slowly, "get me the coordinates of the debris point of convergence."

"Yes, sir... heading 001 mark 1, sir."

Paul tore his eyes from the display in horror, "Those are the exact coordinates for earth..."

I turned to stare again at the swirling debris and the still pulsating core of our once-great planet, thought of all the billions of lives lost... and wept openly.

"... and we've discovered wreckage from the_ Drake, the __Penelope, the __Constellation, the __LaSalle, and the __Zhukov still in a loose orbit of what's left of earth," Paul reported wearily.They were all in pretty bad shape, save for the __Penelope, which was still whole enough to be boarded," he caught my look. "The entire crew was dead, sir, but Jamie's brought another body back so she can compare autopsy results from the __Enterprise crewman's with this one."_

I sighed, "Is that all you have to report, Commander?"I sat back in my chair behind my desk.

"One more thing, sir," Paul held up his hand, then abruptly lowered it to straighten his uniform. "I sent out an encoded distress call on all Federation frequencies... but so far, there has been no answer.May I suggest a course of action?"

"Of course, Mr. Plack," I allowed freely. "I'm always grateful for imput."

He nodded, "Yes, sir.Six years ago, myself and Lieutenant Commander Data had started working on a way to preserve a human brain in a mechanical body.He saw it as a doorway to immortality for us organics.After the passing of his 'father,' Doctor Soong in 2366, it became a goal for him to reach before all of his friends died."

"Yes," I said.I was aware of that much. "But what does Mr. Data have to do with us?"

Paul shook his head, "Not Mr. Data, sir.The _lab where we worked.It's stationed in a very insignificant corner of space: the Rivilian system.It's a rather heavily shielded enclosure on the small moon of Vigeria," he paused for breath. "No one would ever think of searching the Rivilian system, Captain.I think it would be a perfect fall-back location."_

I slowly drummed my fingers on my desk, deep in thought, "Yes.Yes, your suggestion is sound, Commander.Very well," I stood. "We will hold our present position for another hour or so, and then set course for the Rivilian system.Inform the senior staff that there will be a briefing in the observation lounge at 2000 hours."

"Aye, sir."

"The Rivilian system," Paul said matter-of-factly, indicating the wall display in the observation lounge. "Three planets orbiting a G-class star," the image of the system faded away, and was replaced by a likeness of a much smaller planet. "The second planet's moon, Vigeria.The lab I mentioned earlier is located on the dark side of the moon, and is shielded from most types of sensor sweeps by the moon's metallic atmosphere.This will be our base of operations.From there we will launch only smaller vehicles to search out other humanoid life such as us, and begin plans for some kind of counter strike against the Tregonians."

"And from some of the Tregonian transmissions we picked up just a few moments ago, the situation looks pretty grim," Plin frowned, and pushed some panels on the glossy conference table. "Listen to this."

There was a short burst of static, and then an unfamiliar voice came on-line, "Darvonchi, this is Fleet Maska Gorand.Report destruction of humanoids that refer to themselves as Klingons.Their planet, _Quo'nos, is ruins in.They conceitedly called themselves Empire.Now we are only the Empire!Pathetic fools!Long live Emperor Faversa!Gorand out."_

"The lists of conquests are endless," Plin choked out.

"This is a dark time for the Alpha Quadrant," Dan agreed quietly.

I grimaced, "Anything else to report?"

Jamie nodded, "Yes, sir.I have the results of those autopsies, and I've come to a very interesting conclusion," she stood and walked up to the main display.She quickly up-linked her PADD to it, and keyed on the screen.Two whirling strands of DNA appeared in macro-vision. "The first strand is a sample I've taken from one of our own dead, one of the people we lost in battle.The second strand is a sample I've taken from one of the _Enterprise's crew members.Now take note, if you would, of the difference in cellular decay."_

Julie stared at the screen, "The first strand in considerably more complete."

Jamie nodded, "Exactly.The second strand is four or five years into it's decay cycle.But these two crewmen were supposedly to have been killed at approximately the same time.A sample from the _Penelope's dead helmsmen is also five years into its cycle," she paused to look at me. "We're the anomaly here, Captain."_

"Hmmm, very interesting, Doctor," I pondered. "I would immediately blame the effect on the Badlands, except for the fact that the _Enterprise was present in the GammaQuadrant as well.Still... Sorry, Commander," I looked up abruptly, "but it looks like we'll have to postpone our trip to Vigeria.There are some things I'd like to investigate in the Badlands first."_

"Yes, sir," Paul responded easily.

"Very good, then," I stood. "Plin, prepare the _Odyssey for warp, and plot a course for the Gamma Quadrant."_

"Aye, sir."

"Dismissed."  
  
  


**Captain's LogStardate: 567199.5:We have been dogmatically searching the Badlands for any answers whatsoever for the past five hours.So far our search has uncovered nothing of consequence.The Tregonian's W-Transmission is still present, and as threatening as ever.We can only hope and pray that no ships decide to come through it, due to the fact that the electromagnetic interference generated by the fiery plasma of the Badlands renders our cloaking device inoperative.**

I never thought I'd see the day the Federation crumbled, never thought my grandchildren would see it.And now, gazing upon all the ruins and wreckage of a once-great civilization--one that I had spent my entire life building and shaping--I feel a sadness like no other... And I know for certain that I will do all that is in my power to bring it back.

"Captain!" Plin piped up abruptly."We're getting some strange readings from the W-T!" She turned around, and fear gripped me. "It's becoming stable, sir... a ship is coming through."

I dug my fingers deeply into the armrests of my chair as I felt all eyes on the bridge focus on me. "Acknowledged, Ms. Plin," I grimaced.We were in no condition for a fight.Then inspiration hit me, "Computer," I called out, "shut down all ships functions except for life support and minimal sensors, authorization: Schwartz, omega three Gibson."

"Working," the computer droned softly. "All systems shut down."

There was a thrumming as all the computers shut down, and the lights dimmed.I raised my eyes from my little panel on the side of my chair and sensed everyone was still staring at me.

"With all due respect, sir," Benson started tensely from tactical, "I am not sure that was the wisest course of action.We are now completely vulnerable to the Tregonian's attack.We don't even have partial shields."

"Shhh," I waved a hand in the lieutenant's direction. "They might hear you."

"What?" Benson inquired in an irked tone. "Captain, this is absurd."

This time it was Paul who addressed Carl, "Shhh," he mimicked my posture. "When you play dead, it's a good idea to keep quiet as well."

"What's the status of the Tregonian vessel, Ms Plin?" I asked in a low voice.

"It's seen us, sir," Plin replied nervously. "It's heading in our direction... now it's scanning us."

"The moment of truth," Julie muttered under her breath.

"It's locked onto our life support generator, Captain, and they're tracing it to the sensor array." Plin frantically pushed keys on her console. "They're shutting down their array and powering up weapons!"

"They know we're still operational!" Benson cried.

"Computer, reactivate the main computer!Get everything back on-line! Shields up!Go to red alert!" Red light filled the bridge. "Weapon's status Mr. Benson?"

"Phasers, quantum torpedoes are on line, sir, but the crest is still down.Shields at 60%!"

"Computer," Paul said, "reroute all weapons functions from the battle bridge to the main bridge!"

"Mr. Doyle," I turned around to face Dan at science 1, "I want you down in engineering."

"Aye, sir," Dan said and promptly left the bridge.

"Hail," I swiveled towards the lieutenant at the Conn, "get down to the hanger deck and scramble all remaining fighters--grab doctors to fly them if need be."

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Benson," I narrowed my eyes, "fire."

"With pleasure, sir."

The ship rocked slightly as twin beams of energy lanced out and struck the Scavenger ship dead center.It's shields fizzled into existence at least a second after our phasers had struck home.Obviously they had not been expecting much resistance.

Suddenly they let loose with three beams of greenish liquid fire.Two of the three collided with our shields, while the third caught the edge and ricocheted off into space.

"Damage report?" I inquired.

"Minimal damage to the hull," Benson replied, "but shields are at fifty percent."

Paul stood from his chair, "Prepare to fire quantum torpedoes," he ordered.

"Aye, sir," Benson keyed in the proper sequence.

"Fire," I brought my hand down to emphasize the instruction.  
Five crackling orbs of energy shot from our forward torpedo launcher and slammed into the enemy vessel.

"It didn't even penetrate their shields," Plin reported.

As Raseen spoke I saw our few remaining fighters converge on the Scavenger."Schwartz to fighter wing," I transmitted. "Hail, come in."

"Wing leader here, sir," came the staticy reply. "Awaiting orders."

I stood and walked towards the view screen, "Focus your attack on their stern, Lieutenant--I want you to try and knock out their shield generator."

"Aye, sir," there was a pause. "Die all, die merrily, Captain."  
The channel was cut as Hail signed off.

Our ship shook as it was again impacted by deadly bolts of energy.I took a step backward to brace myself for the next barrage.

"Shields are down to _fifteen percent, Captain, and there are reports of a hull breach on deck twelve!"_

"Fire our remaining torpedoes, Mr. Benson!" I commanded over the screaming alarms. "Pattern: Epsilon!"

On my mark, the six remaining torpedoes exited their tubes and took on the specified attack pattern.One by one, they ravaged our opponent's shields, each time aiming for a different vital system.

"Status of the enemy vessel?" Paul's voice cut through the smoke and red light.

Plin turned around slowly, as if in a daze, "Captain," she whispered. "The Tregonian ship is down--it's dead in space, sir."

"What?" I narrowed my eyes unbelieveingly.

"Stand down from red alert," Paul instructed uncertainly.The alarms shut off.

"Are you sure of that, Ms. Plin?"

"Positive, sir," she replied haltingly. "Our sensors show intensive damage to the stern, no life signs... and sensors are operating well within established perimeters."

"Counselor?" I turned to my left.

Julie shook her head, "No, Captain--I do not sense any presence at all on the vessel.Though it still could be a trap," she added.

I frowned, "Yes, we must entertain all possibilities... but I think that this is too good an opportunity to pass up.A Tregonian ship has never been studied from the inside out.I think we might be able to learn something about our adversary from all of this.Mr. Plack," I addressed Paul, "I'd like you to assemble an away team and beam over to the Tregonian ship.See if you can ascertain any weaknesses in their ship's construction."

"Yes, _sir," Paul replied readily. "Benson, Plin, you're with me.Mr. Doyle?" Paul called._

"Yes, sir, I've been monitoring the conversation from down here," Dan responded immediately. "I'll meet you in transporter room three."

Paul felt the familiar tingle of excitement as he stepped onto the transporter pad.Dan, Raseen, and Carl stepped up beside him.

"I'll be keeping a continuous lock on you during your entire visit 'next door,'" the blond haired transporter chief said, keying in the correct sequence. "The Captain wants to be able to bring you back at a moments notice."

"Very good, Chief," Paul allowed, and adjusted his phaser belt. "Energize."

Suddenly the room was filled with the melodies of what seemed like thousands of bell chimes.Paul closed his eyes against the assault of pulsating colors swimming around the interior of the matter stream.And then, the whistling harmonics ceased, and the colors vanished.

The away team now found themselves bathed in flickering green light.Smoke was pouring out of various vents making it difficult to see.

"Spread out," Paul started. "See if you can find an operational console--or any kind of schematic that might help us find our way around," he paused to switch on his wrist light. "I had the chief beam us to the most prominent site of transwarp activity, so we should be near the Scavenger's main engineering.Let's move."

The party split up, each member going in a different direction.

Dan passed a long line of engineering panels, going over each of them for signs of life.

Finally he discovered one that still glowed faintly.

"Commander," he called, "come take a look at this."

"What is it, Mr. Doyle?" Paul strode through the haze to where Dan was standing.

"I think I've found a station that's still operational," the screen he gestured to was covered with literally hundreds of tiny scribblings. "Though I can't even begin to guess what all of these symbols could mean."

"Sir," the voice of Plin cut across the room. "I've found a body--presumably Tregonian."

"Get to work on deciphering their code, Mr. Doyle," Paul instructed, and when Dan nodded, went over to join Plin.

"Vital signs are nil, Commander," Raseen stated when Paul knelt beside her. "It's dead."

Paul stared into the cream-colored face of one of the Federation's conquers, and a strange primal fear came over him.It was a barbaric face, with many more ridges then even a Klingon's.It had a total of three fingers on each hand, and wore a molded body suit.It had no hair of any kind; its violet eyes were glazed over in death.

Hmmm, Dan frowned and bent closer to the display.The screen had changed color.

Paul looked from the alien to Plin, and back again, "Was it a male or a female?"

"Male, I think," Plin responded, consulting her tricorder. "The tricorder's having a hard time distinguishing organs of any sort.I'm not reading any heart, lungs, or liver.I can't even assess how he died."

The minute characters on the dim display screen were moving.Dan blinked to clear his vision.He began randomly pushing keys, trying to get a reaction, "Commander!Something's coming on-line."   
"What is it, Lieutenant?" Paul stood.

"I don't know, sir, but I think we should--" Dan was cut off as the lights came on with a thrumming sound.Every display along the four walls followed suit.

"Captain!" The ensign manning Raseen's station announced. "The Tregonian vessel is coming back on-line!"

"What?" I rose from my seat, and felt Julie move to my side.

"The ship is powering up it's main computer core!" The young ensign's eyes widened. "The Tregonian ship is raising it's shields!"

The Tregonian warrior between Paul and Raseen suddenly sat up, discarding death as if it were no more then a garment.Plin let out a piercing scream.

"Bridge to transporter room three!" I cried. "Get them out of there!"

"Yes, sir," the chief replied. "Energizing."

I waited for a moment, and only the soft harmonics of transportation came over the channel.

"Report, chief," I demanded sharply.

It was Daniel who answered, "We're back, sir.Everyone made it..." he faltered.Julie moved closer to me, putting a hand on my shoulder, suspense obviously coursing through her veins. "Everyone but the Commander, sir."

I grimaced; ran a hand through my hair, "Very well, Mr. Doyle.Please return to the bridge," I turned to face the view screen, gently removing Julie's hand. "Ensign Carlosin," I spoke quietly, an undertone of menace creeping into my voice. "Hail the enemy vessel."

"Aye, sir," the ensign replied; he too had taken notice of the somber attitude that had descended on the bridge, for he spoke in little more then a whisper. "Channel open."

"Scavenger vessel," I began, putting all of my remaining pride and dignity into my voice. "This is Captain Peter Schwartz of the Federation starship _Odyssey.One of our people was trapped on your ship when you unexpectedly reinstated your shields," I decided to put all my cards on the table. "We ask that you return our crew member, and let us go in peace.We are but one defenseless ship, and could not possibly prove a threat to you or your armada."_

The main view screen sprung to life just as the away team returned to the bridge.Seated facing the screen was a short, stubby alien.Flanking his command chair were two hulking figures, each with body armor, and ridged faces.All three pairs of violet alien eyes were locked on me.

"Starship _Odyssey: I am Captain D'virian of the __Bird that Hunts in the Night," the middle humanoid responded in perfect English. "It is a fact that we do indeed have your crew member.But we are unwilling to conform to your terms--he was, after all, a trespasser on our ship.However," he held up his three-fingered hand to stop any protests. "Your man is still alive, and we may be willing to return him to you."_

"But..." I prompted.

"But, in return, I want your complete and utter submission.You will become our servants, and your ship will be _assimilated into our own fleet," the alien face stayed placid, but the strange shiny implant on it's head sparkled with satisfaction._

Dan stepped forward, "How do we know he's really still alive?"

"A fair question," the Tregonian turned to one of the big humanoids on the left side of him. "Bring in the Starfleet," the bigger Tregonian grinned savagely and strode off-screen

A few moments later he returned with Paul, struggling against his restraining cuffs.

"Captain," he said as soon as he saw me. "Don't listen to them.Take the _Odyssey and try and revive the Federation," I frowned a bit at the histrionic drama he was throwing in to the speech, but continued to listen. "You must stand like Dangara at Tangren.You need to remember Ravank at Bavenaria.Or Triskal at--" he was cut off by the large Tregonian._

"No more talk, Starfleet," he rumbled. "Back to holding cell."

"Remember, Captain!"

I frowned again, contemplating my first officer's monologue.

Meanwhile, the smooth-skinned Tregonian had turned back to me, "You have one Terran hour to make your decision.Our word is our bond, Captain--you keep your end of the bargain, and we will most certainly keep ours," he concluded.The channel was severed.

"Thank you, and come again," I heard Benson mumble under his breath.

I let out a large breathof air and sat down, "Your impression, Counselor?"

"I find the Tregonian species very intriguing, Captain," she replied slowly. "From the larger Tregonians, I felt only hate; barbarism.But from the smaller one, only intelligence and regalness," she closed her eyes, then opened them, rubbing her temples. "I also noticed unveiled surprise emanating from each of them when you announced that we were of the Federation."

"Yes," I sat back. "Yes, I took note of their astonishment as well.And what would you expect?Hmph.All this was just as anticipated.But what of our own Mr. Plack's behavior?"

"I found it decidedly... odd," Julie admitted. "Though I believe that his intentions were not to encourage us, but to transmit a message of some sort."

Dan stepped down from to the command deck, "Any idea what kind of message?" He inquired.

The Counselor shook her head firmly, "No, his main intendment was hidden, even from me."

Plin turned to me from beside Paul's chair, "Mr. Plack made distinct references to several famous Klingon conquests."

"Do you remember anything specific or unusual about them?"

Plin frowned, deep in thought, "No, sir, I'm sorry, the academy is a good many years behind me.But I'm sure they would be in the ship's library."

"Very good, Lieutenant," I said easily. "You and Mr. Doyle will access the correct files and report to me with your conclusion as soon as possible," I paused on my way to the door. "I'll be in my ready room."


	6. 

"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering.

"_Roc'de'jino, chocolate," I spoke into the replicator._

With a sigh I sat down behind my desk to await any answers that might come my way. 

Everything had been moving so fast lately.And it definitely seemed that the "bad" was considerably more fleet of foot then the "good."I rubbed my eyes.Such was the life of a Starfleet captain during war times.

I caught sight of a vid-cube half buried under an unsteady stack of PADDs.I reached for it, steadying the PADDs with my other hand.

It was a "still" of Jamie and Tianna that I had taken on our recent vacation to the mountains of Talarius III.I smiled, remembering--living in the memories.

Then, as it always did when I managed to find a moment of peace, reality crept up behind me and sunk its ugly talons deep into my heart.

I cringed, the memories evaporating.There was no more earth, no more baby girl to welcome Daddy and Mommy home.As a father, I promised her the stars--the universe...

I replaced the cube.And Jamie._I haven't talked to her in two days, I thought harshly; haven't slept in three._

Somberly I sipped my beverage and stared off into infinity.

Die all, die merrily?

Paul gently massaged his bruised shoulder.The Tregonian guard had returned him to his cell none too gently.Paul was a big guy, and fairly strong, but those Tregonians made him feel like chaff on the wind.

Carefully he stood, testing his other limbs as he did so.Slowly he walked over to the force field--the only thing separating him from relative freedom.

He desperately hoped that the Captain had understood his instructions to wait.Apparently, the fighters had done more damage to the Tregonian's engine core then to their shield generator.According to his findings before he was discovered, their transwarp containment was at dangerous levels.The Scavenger was on the verge of a breech, and any fire fight at all might upset its fragile balance, resulting in both ships being engulfed in the shock wave.

Paul quickly scanned the outer room for any Tregonian presence.Finding none, he gave his shoulder one last pat, and bent to roll up the pant-leg of his uniform, exposing the tiny ankle holster he had become accustomed to wearing since the heat of the Great Borg War.Silently he removed the tiny disrupter and began to quietly work on melting the wall plate that hid the force field controls.

"... so in all instances the battle involved a stalemate," Dan concluded. "Which, I might add, is the very reason those specific battles were taught in the academy.They were the only three Klingon conflicts in all of _Klinzhai history that ended in... a tie."_

I tapped my chin, "A stalemate?Yes, that about describes our present situation."

"Ah, but I think Paul means us to go a step further," Dan commented, pushing on, obviously having a theory in mind. "What makes up a stalemate--what's the principle behind it?"

Plin ventured a guess, "The action involved?"

"Rather the lack of action," Dan corrected. "In fact, the said situation infers complete _inaction."_

"So Paul's telling us to wait?" I asked.

Dan shrugged, "That would be my guess."

I smiled tightly, "Then we wait."

"Ahh," Paul gently disconnected what was left of the wall plate from its housing, and set it on the floor of his cell.

Cautiously he began probing around the inside of the wall.He fingered several wires before he finally located the correct one.Mentally crossing his fingers, he yanked the wire from its socket.

There was a minuscule, soundless explosion of sparks, and the force field shut down.

With disrupter in hand, Paul crept from his cell and into the outer detention area.Quickly and fluidly he moved through the open door and into the office.

"Hey," a Tregonian rose from his chair in the lounge, "who let Starfleet out?" He made a move to reach for his disrupter, but Paul was faster.Two compressed bursts of energy hit the Tregonian square in the chest.He was dead before he hit the ground.

"Anyone else want to try it?" He challenged, training his own weapon on the two remaining Tregonians.

Both raised their hands in averse surrender.

"Good choice," Paul nodded. "This disrupter has only three settings: medium, rare, and extra crispy--no stun in the bunch.So I suggest you cooperate and lock yourselves in that holding cell over there," reluctantly the two security guards rose to their feet, and plodded towards the cell Paul had indicated.

Suddenly, one of them made a move to grab Paul's disrupter, but was hacked to the ground before his hands left his sides. 

The conscious Tregonian decided to quicken his pace, and reached the cell even before Paul did.He shoved him inside, then bent to drag the still form of the other hapless guard into a similar cell.

"On second thought, I don't think I want you two bunking together if Ugly over there ever wakes up," Paul explained, then reached to remove his combadge.Carefully he opened the small device, removed the proximity detector, and placed it in an adjacent cell. Then he saluted, "Another time, boys."

***

"It's already been forty-five minutes, Captain.I don't think we can wait any longer," Plin stated grimly.

"Suggestion noted, Ms. Plin," I cut her off. "But Mr. Plack still has my vote of confidence.He's been in tougher situations," I looked uneasily at Julie, and she shrugged.Raseen shifted gingerly in her chair.

Paul quickly ducked through the open door and re-entered the Scavenger's main engineering.Skulking in the shadows, he approached the main computer console.He checked his chronometer.According to his calculations, the next shift of Tregonian engineers was due in about five minutes.He inserted the command access rod he had "borrowed" from a fallen Tregonian lieutenant, and keyed up an informational schematic.

"Shield modulation, 065 degrees, shield deactivation code...," Paul paused as he checked his figures.

"Hey!" A voice from the cat-walk above sounded. "What are you doing down there?You're shift doesn't start for another...," the tech's voice faltered as Paul looked up from his work. "Starfleet!" He activated his wrist communicator. "Security!The Starfleet has escaped!Security to--"

He was cut off as he was struck in the head by a disrupter burst.

"Uhh!" Paul smacked the table with his palm, his weapon cooling on the conduit beside him.Now it was only a matter of how fast security traced his trail to main engineering.He shook his head. "Com'on," he muttered, hitting the glossy console again, "work faster."

"Working," the computer responded.

"Captain D'virian," The ship's security chief called over the com-net. "The prisoner has escaped.We have tracked him to engineering, where he seems to have rooted himself.I have sealed all exits, and made sure the room was clear of all of our personnel.Should we move in?"

"He's no good to us dead, Chief," D'virian reminded his third officer.

"No more visual communications are necessary, my liege--the hour is almost spent," the Chief countered. "Besides--our word is our bond."

The implant on D'virian's head glistened like golden latinum, "Agreed, Chief.You have my permission to do whatever is obligatory."

"Imputting shut-down authorization," Paul spoke into the panel the computer had indicated.He pressed the correct keys.Now all he had to do was initiate the sequence.

Suddenly, a burst of hot energy sang over his head.Startled, he looked up.The security team had found him.

Quickly he dropped to the ground and rolled under the main console.

Compressed energy beams continued to sear the floor just to the left of him.

After a few seconds the hail slowly came to a stop, "Come out, Starfleet.The Captain has ordered us to bring you to him _alive."_

Paul thought for a moment, an idea forming in his adrenaline pumping brain, "Alright," he called finally. "Alright, I'm coming out."

Slowly he edged his way out of his little electronic alcove.

Then in one lightening move, he pulled his weapon and punched through the first two guards.Their lifeless bodies fell heavily to the upper cat-walk.

Seeing this, the Tregonian in charge fired a warning shot at Paul's feet.Paul backed up a few steps in response.

"Put the gun down," the Chief instructed briskly. "Put the gun down and put your hands on your head."

Slowly Paul complied, lowering his gun to place it on the main console.He put it carefully on the activator key for the shield deactivation sequence, administering the slightest amount of pressure to it when it made contact with the table.

"Shield deactivation in one minute, twenty seconds," the computer's voice rang out loudly.Paul cringed.

"What?" The Chief motioned to his men. "He's trying to bring down our shields!Shoot!Kill him!"

But Paul was already gone.

Paul slid down behind the warp core in a tiny alcove reserved for repairs.

He heard the sound of footsteps running along the outer hallway.

He smiled.No one would find him here--and once the shields were down, they couldn't be raised again for an entire thirty seconds.

He checked his chronometer a second time: there were thirty-five seconds left.thirty-four, thirty-three...

"Thought you could escape, eh, Starfleet?"

Paul froze.The Tregonian security chief was standing directly behind him.

Once again feigning surprise, he turned around and quickly slapped the blaster from his enemy's hand.Swiftly he leapt from the fissure, and made a break for it.There was a sighing sound.The shields were down.

"Sir!" Benson cried. "The Tregonian's shields are lowering!"

I stood up, "Transporter room!The enemy vessel's shields are down--can you get a lock on Mr. Plack?"

"I don't know, Captain," a female voice replied. "I'll have to sensor-sweep the ship.His combadge doesn't seem to be functioning."

"Make it so," I commanded. "I want him found before the Tregonians have time to raise their shields again."

"Aye, sir."

Paul hit his combadge as he ran, "Plack to _Odyssey!"There was no answer, only a fuzzy beep.He slapped it again, and got the same response.His only speculation was that he had somehow damaged it when he had removed the proximity matrix._

He ducked behind the plasma tubing surrounding the core and tried to catch his breath.

The chief Tregonian stepped from the shadows, nursing his wounded hand, "It ends, Starfleet," he raised his gun.

"Wait!" Paul shouted, remembering what he had discovered earlier. "You can't fire that in here!" 

"Of course I can.You will not fool me again, Starfleet," the other retorted scornfully.

Paul shook his head.He had to make it sound technical, or there was no way his pursuer would believe him, "But, uh, the plasma balance in your transwarp core is very unstable.If you fire that weapon, you will initiate a core breach and kill everyone on this ship!"

"What do you mean?Our engineers have found no such anomalies." 

"That's because the damage is on a subspace level.If you would do an engine diagnostic on subspace band forty-five, then I think you'd find--"

"I've played enough games," the Tregonian snarled.Once again, he raised his disrupter.

"I've got a lock, sir!" The _Odyssey's transporter chief reported. "Just give me a moment to feed in the numbers..."_

The compressed energy left the Tregonian's barrel in a brilliant flash of light, instantly igniting the surrounding air.He screamed as he was consumed with the back-wash of his own blast.

Paul ducked and the crackling orb passed over him, demolishing the main plasma canister in an awesome explosion.Plasma flowed freely, pouring over Paul. He two howled as the searing plasma began to eat away the flesh from his legs.

The transporter beam was glorious relief.

"He's coming in now, Captain," the chief concluded.

"Thank you, Chief, send him directly to the brid--"

"I'm afraid there's no time for that, Captain.We have a medical emergency down here!"

"Captain!" Another voice chimed in from the head of the bridge. "Transwarp levels in the Tregonian ship are rising!" Plin reported. "Reaching critical levels--Captain, what we're looking at is a full-scale warp breach!"

"Chief, beam Mr. Plack to sick bay.Ms. Plin, bring us about, full impulse!"

The ship shook as the immense shockwave from the exploding vessel came into contact with our aft shields, but only minor damage was inflicted.

I stood up, some of the tension leaving my muscles, "Lieutenant," I started, "take us out of the Badlands and set a course for the Rivilian system: warp eight."

"Aye, sir."

"Counselor," I inclined my head, "Mr. Doyle?"

They both turned to me, "Sick bay," Dan confirmed.

Finally, after at least four hours of waiting, Jamie came out of Surgery and into the outer ring of sick bay.

Carefully she removed the red hood that held her hair in place; pulled off her crimson gloves.She had a tired look on her face, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

"How did it go, Doc?" I asked softly.

"Well," Jamie sighed heavily. "When we got him, at least half of his torso had been eaten away by some form of liquid plasma.We managed to stop the decay, but his body from the neck down was so full of radiation poisoning, there was no way we could save it."

Dan looked to the ground, then back up at Jamie," So he's...?"

Jamie looked uncomfortable, "I'm not quite sure how to describe it.Maybe you should all see for yourselves," Jamie keyed on the com. "Corinne?Is the patient stabilized?"

"Yes, doctor," an airy voice replied. "The medical fields are in place."

"Thank you, Ms. DeDaria," Jamie motioned for all of us to follow her into the inner ring of sick bay.

We passed through the double doors and into Surgery.The lights were almost painfully bright, and everything except the milling nurses was a sterile white or cream color.

Jamie strode up to Corinne, and seemed to be asking her a question, but I couldn't hear what exactly was being said.In response, though, Corinne gestured to one of the autopsy tubes off to the side.

"This way," Jamie stated.She walked over to the tube, myself, Dan, and Julie in tow. "Computer," she spoke into the com panel, "open autopsy tube zero one, voice authorization: Schwartz, Jamie Doctor."

There was a humming noise, and then the tube slid out from the seamless wall.It was about six feet long, and three feet wide._Large enough to house Commander Plack's dead body, I thought sadly._

"Medical field deactivated," the computer said. 

Slowly, the top of the capsule retracted.

But no body was revealed... until it had completed its retraction.

I gaped in silence.

Connected to numerous tubes, hoses, and regulators, was Paul Plack's lifeless head.It was burned and scorched to the bone in many places, but it was obviously no longer alive.Strips of striated flesh hung about his cranium, and his remaining eye was a strange milky white.His hair was gone, and replaced by some kind of neural stimulator.His spinal cord was apparently still attached to the base of his skull, for it hung slack, supported by a mass of tubes and hoses.The head floated limply, held in place by a type three medical force field. 

I looked from the tube, to Jamie, and back again.My mouth moved, but no sound came.

"I'm sorry," Jamie shook her head slowly. "I should have warned you.As I said, there was no way possible to preserve his body.This is all we were able to save--and even his cranium is in pretty bad shape.So the only thing we could truly preserve was his mind..."

**Captain's LogStardate: 567315.3: The discovery of Paul's retrogression still weighing heavily on all of our hearts, we are currently en route to the Rivilian system.Ms. Plin has estimated that we will reach Vigeria in two hours.On the subject of Mr. Plack, however, there are no ideas, no speculations.We can only cling to the fragile hope that whatever technology Paul had mentioned earlier still exists, and that perhaps it could be eventually perfected to accommodate the Commander's condition.But for the time being, Mr. Plack is a silent vessel of knowledge, no more able to disclose what he may have learned on the Tregonian ship then I am able to change the horrible events that have led to the fall of the Federation.**

"Science lab IV," Dan pointed to the image already forming on the observation lounge's main screen. "It's the only man-made structure detectable on the moon Vigeria.I'm quite sure it is the laboratory that the Commander was speaking of."

"Do we know anything about it?" Plin questioned, resting her head on her hand.

Dan nodded, "It's an old Federation observation post.It was abandoned about five years ago when many of it's inhabitants were killed by a group of Klingon radicalists.I've obtained an approximate floor-plan from the ship's research library,"The picture on the screen changed. "Here," he pointed to a large room in the center of the compound, "is the main research room.This was the center of all activity while the station was still in use," Dan turned to me. "I suggest that when we arrive at our destination we have a scout team beam directly to this cubicle.We're going to want to make sure that Science lab IV is indeed a safe base of operations.And if all goes well...?" He paused, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

"If all goes well, I'd like to her down, Mr. Doyle, initiate an up-link with the lab's computer, and begin making long-range plans."

"'Take her down,' sir?" Julie questioned. "The _Odyssey?"_

I shrugged, "She was built with landing capabilities," I replied. "Plus, she'd be too easily detected in orbit.At least the planet's magnetic atmosphere will provide some cover."

"The magnetic atmosphere of Vigeria will also make the _Odyssey a great deal more difficult to land," Plin commented._

"You don't think you're up to it, Lieutenant?" I inquired seriously.

"To be perfectly honest, sir, I've never even thought of the prospect of landing a starship."

"Then this'll be good practice," Dan offered, a bit of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Raseen smiled, "Aye, sir.I'm prepared to try my best."

Jamie sat up, "Who's going to lead the away team?" She asked. "The Commander is in no shape to even attempt such a feat."

"I will lead the away team," I answered him instantly.

I was rewarded with a table-full of wide-eyed officers.

"Sir, may I remind you that a ship's executive officer's job is to protect his captain," Carl Benson interceded. "And in the event that the said officer becomes unable to carry out his duties, the responsibility is passed down to the second officer, and so on.Starfleet protocol distinctly says--"   
"Your concern is noted, Mr. Benson," I cut him off. "But I'm sure it will be perfectly safe on the surface.Besides--Mr. Doyle, the Doctor, and Ms. Plin will be accompanying me."

"Captain?" A voice came over the com. "We have arrived, and are in orbit around Vigeria."

"Thank you, Ensign," I responded. "Away team: with me to transporter room two.Mr. Benson, you have the bridge."

***


	7. 

"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering.

When we were fully materialized, Jamie and Raseen pulled out their tricorders.

The abandoned space lab was dark, but relatively clean.The air was a bit musty, but breathable.

"Report?" I asked after a few moments had passed.

"The electromagnetic atmosphere outside the lab must be affecting our tricorders," Jamie replied. "I can't..." she touched her head.

"Doctor?" Dan inquired simply, raising one eyebrow.

"I'm sorry," Jamie apologized, then she winced. "I'm just a little dizzy, that's all."

"Because of all the interference, we can't even scan an one-hundred foot radius," Plin completed Jamie's thought. "We're going to have to check out each room separately."

"Great," Dan commented dryly. "Is there any other good news?"

"This also means that there is no way of knowing if anyone's in here with us," Plin relayed another heart-warming fact. "Someone could be right behind us, and we'd never know until it was too late--ahh!"There was a shriek from Plimn's direction.

Suddenly I felt strong arms wrap around me and tighten around my chest.My wrist light swung wildly, but I could catch no glimpse of my attacker.

"Lieutenant!" I cried, hoping Dan was still free. "Run!" Desperately I tried to reach my combadge and contact the _Odyssey, but my assailant kept my arms pinned to my sides._

"Do not move, or I will be forced to break your neck," a cool, modulated voice whispered in my ear.Soon all movement stopped, and the room was silent.A gag was slipped into my mouth to stifle any verbal assaults.

"More intruders, Lieutenant?" A strong firm voice came from the darkness.

"I believe so, Commander," the quiet voice replied.

"I say we kill them now," a deep bass of a voice growled from a few feet away.

"Mayhaps you're being a bit hasty, Lieutenant," a slightly accented Englishman broke in. "We don't even know for sure that they are our enemies."

"But Captain," a fifth voice, a bit gruff, but not so severe as the last one, broke into the conversation, "what are the chances that--"

"Computer," the Englishman was speaking again, "lights."

Slowly, as the ancient processors groaned, the small research room was illuminated.

I instinctively looked down at the hands that were still locked around my neck.They were a familiar metallic white...

I raised my head almost in unison with my other crew members... and found I was surrounded by a multitude of old friends. "Captain Picard?" I inquired as the Englishman stepped into the light.I turned to face my attacker, "Mr. Data?"The android lowered me to the floor and stepped back in surprise.Also in the offensive ring around us were Ed, Commander Riker, and Mr. Worf.

"Captain Schwartz," Picard spoke as a man who had just seen a ghost. "I greet you--but how is this possible?We all witnessed the _Odyssey's destruction on that fateful day during that pivotal battle with the Tregonians.How is it you... survived?"Suspicion was slowly entering his voice._

I briefly recounted all of the happenings between the Badlands and Vigeria, including Paul's predicament, and the unexplainable accelerated decay of all the bodies we had recovered.

"The _Odyssey is in orbit overhead, awaiting my instructions on whether to land and set up camp here, or to move on," I concluded neatly. "Though I still cannot accept the fact that the Federation has fallen to a savage, war-like species such as the Tregonians insuch a short period of time," I expected immediate response, but instead, there was a long moment of awkward silence._

"Captain," Riker spoke up, "Are you aware of what year this is?"

"Of course," I responded slowly. "It is presently 2380, stardate 567315.3."

Both Riker and Picard looked at each other, and there were murmurs rippling through the rest of the _Enterprise's senior staff._

"Captain," Picard began softly. "I don't know what has happened, nor do I know for what reason.But it is not the year 2380.As of today, it is stardate 601123.1 of the year 2385."

I stared back at my friend unbelieveingly.But then I noticed for the first time the Captain's appearance.He had a beard, not a thick one, but a scraggly fixture.His uniform was gone, replaced with patches and various over-garments made of leather or other simple materials.Everyone else appeared very much the same, each with new or fading scars.

"How is this... possible?" I shook my head.

Plin turned to me, "It must have happened during our first battle with the Tregonians.Our phasers misfired..."

"And we must have accidentally torn open an unstable pocket of antimatter," Dan chimed in. "And mixed with the T-particles emanating from the worm hole, it must have constructed some sort of temporal vortex."

Plin whistled morbidly, "So the Federation has been dead for how long now?"

"Almost three years," Picard hung his head in an unusual show of humility. "Approximately twenty hours after the Tregonians left us for dead in a disabled _Enterprise, the __Scarlet Ibis picked up our distress call, and sent a ship to rescue us.By the time our rescue ship had reached our position, we had already received news that Deep Space Nine had been compromised.As soon as we were reassigned, we leapt right back into the fray, only to see Earth and the entire Federation crumble over the course of the next few years. Vigeria was our fall-back location.Right now, there are roughly five hundred people living here, all in cramped quarters, afraid to even step outside.There have been a total of three Tregonian investigative teams here in the last few months."_

With a deep breath, the tired captain continued, "When you four beamed in, we were afraid that one of the members of the last team might have gotten word to the Empire, and sent you as a follow-up group.We are trying to plan a resistance, but too many people are unwilling, or too afraid to help us," Picard sighed.

Raseen gazed again at the squalor of the people around her, "But what happened?The Federation was confident going into this war--we thought we had a fighting chance.What went wrong?"

Picard's eyes contained a dying fire as he spoke, "I curse the day that the Tregonians first entered Earth's space--and I curse myself for not being there to make the difference I could have made," he stopped, then began again, haltingly. "You see, it was not a Tregonian cruiser that was responsible for Earth's annihilation... but an altered Borg cube ship..." 

"A what?" I inquired, not wanting to believe what I had just heard.

"A cube ship, sir," Riker supplied. "Run by a positronic net on-board the Tregonian mother ship.Apparently, the hive has been disrupted and is now run by the Tregonians," he snorted in disgust. "I suppose we could thank them for taking care of our Borg problem, but I doubt that afterwards we'd be able to thank anyone for anything ever again."

"Borg technology in the hands of strategists like the Tregonians?I'm beginning to see the big picture here," I allowed as the image of the regenerating Tregonian cruiser re-entered my mind.

But my mind was still trying to grasp the concept of a universe without the Borg, "The entire Borg population has been annihilated?"

"No," Riker said, "but their group mind is now run by a Tregonian--they're still mindless drones, they're just working for a different queen bee.So far as we can tell, they've been devided into 'sects.'Each Borg sect is controled by a different Hive Ruler, and contains a set amount of cube ships."

"Needless to say, Starfleet was not at all prepared to deal with the Borg again so soon," Picard commented. "Plus, they arrived from the direction of the Delta Quadrant before the garrison sequence was completed.We weren't expecting a rear assault--not so soon, anyway.The garrison was down, the fleet was scattered between Earth and DS9, and Earth was a ripe target."

I shivered--what an unholy alliance.

"...but with the help of your ship," Picard was saying, "I think we can finally get the resistance on it's feet."

I snapped back to reality, and the hopelessness of the situation fully asserted me, "Right," I agreed. "But I think the first step should be getting some help for my first officer.He has been aboard a Tregonian ship, and has witnessed schematics and information firsthand," I took a deep breath and turned. "Mr. Data, perhaps you can help us with this dilemma."

"I believe I can, sir," Data replied. "The technology Mr. Plack mentioned was very close to perfection when he and I went our separate ways.I am willing to try and merge his mind and the body I was working on," Data said. Hewent over to the adjacent wall and pushed an old-fashioned keypad.A panel slid open revealing a nondescript, glistening white android body.It's face was featureless, a mask of soft clay, ready to be molded, "The body is identical to my own, only lacking the positronic servos that power my limbs.Those limbs, hopefully, will be powered by the nervous system witch Mr. Plack's own brain will eventually grow.The whole process will take only approximately ten hours," he paused. "It should be a 'piece of cake.'" Data half-smiled at the colloquialism he had attempted.

I smiled back, but felt dead on the inside.

Paul opened his eyes.Awareness was back with him.He tried to remember something, anything, about who he was.His limbs felt cold and stiff._I am Commander Paul Plack, he told himself,__ first officer aboard the U.S.S... his mind went blank.Was it the __Odyssey... the __Stiletto... or maybe the __Endeavor...?_

He tried to sit up, maybe clear his head... but his body remained cold and lifeless.Panic rose up within him, and he tried to scream.But no sound came.There was no sound, no movement, in this dark, dark prison._So quiet, he thought. __So still.All he could do was lay silently, ever trying to move his iron limbs. _

**  
"Transfer is complete, Doctor," Data radioed the _Odyssey. "Mr. Plack's mind has been received."_**

"Acknowledged, Mr. Data," Jamie responded. "Schwartz out."

Data turned, "All of the bioelectronic filaments are connected, and the body's servos have power.Mr. Doyle?"

"Brain activity is normal, all motor systems are nominal," Dan reported. "I think we're ready to give it a go."

"We are ready for activation, Captain," Data repeated. "Now, Mr. Plack may be a bit disoriented at first, but give him some time.I am quite certain that all of the systems will come in exactly when they are supposed to," Data stopped, and reached forward to touch Paul's activation switch.

With a click, Paul's eyes snapped open.They were the same almond color as Data's but contained quite a bit more life.His face had been shaped and molded until it at least resembled the old Commander Plack.

Paul screamed.It was a long, lingering scream, the kind that could curdle your blood.He screamed again.

"Mr. Doyle: decrease sensory imput down to eighty-five percent."

"Imput down to eighty-five percent," Dan replied. "I think we're OK now, Data."

Paul stopped suddenly, and sat up.

"Whhhhoooo aaaam Iiii?" This time, all of his syllables were elongated, droning off into each other.

"Mr. Doyle," Data began again, "increase vocal dexterity by five points, and give the cerebellum another power feed."

Paul turned his head towards me, "Captain...?" He squinted his eyes. "Data... Dan?" He shook his head violently. "What's going on?" He looked down at his white synthetic body.He tried to move his fingers, but his entire arm convulsed and lay still."Captain," he began once more, with anguish in his eyes, "What happened to me?"

"What is the last thing that you remember?" Data stepped up to the bedside.

Paul frowned, "I remember... beaming onto the Tregonian ship to... investigate.Their shields were down... but it was a trick, wasn't it?" Slowly I nodded. "And then I remember searing pain.I... I..." he screamed again.

"Turn all of his pain receptors down to ten percent, Lieutenant," Data commanded. "His brain is trying to recreate the experience as he retells it."

Soon, Paul was once again silent, "Pain receptors?" He questioned.He tried to move his legs, but to no avail. "Am I dead?_What is happening?"_

"The pain you remember," I began, "was from a severe case of liquid plasma poisoning.It eventually destroyed all of your body, along with all of your vital systems--except for your brain.You, my friend, are a miracle of science: the first humoid."

He looked again at his perfect synthetic body, and everything clicked, "We made it to Vigeria.And I'm alive...," he tried to swing his legs around and stand.They moved only a quarter of an inch. "What's wrong with my motor servos?" he inquired, suddenly calm. "I can't move my limbs."

"Your nervous system is still growing," Data answered. "It has not yet made all of it's connections concrete.Some of the filaments still need to harden as well."

"The process should take approximately two more hours to run its course," Dan looked up from the display monitoring Paul's life signs. "Then you'll be faster and stronger then you've ever dreamt of being."

"And hopefully your memory has been enhanced likewise," I commented. "I want to know _everything you saw over there on the Scavenger.Everything to the last detail.There will be a debriefing on-board the __Odyssey in five hours.Mr. Doyle," I turned to my left, "You and Mr. Data stay here with the Commander and fill him in on all that has happened during his 'sabbatical.'I want our senior staff as well as the __Enterprise's in the observation lounge at 2000 hours."_

"Aye, sir," Dan replied.

Slowly I turned and walked from the lab and strode to the designated beam-out point.

"Chief," I tapped my badge, "one to beam up."

"Aye, sir.Energizing.

I relaxed as the soothing beam of the transporter claimed me...

... and in exactly one point five seconds, I was back on-board the new flag-ship of the Federation.

"Thank you, chief," I nodded. "Please call the Doctor, Ms. Plin, and Mr. Reagan to my ready room.I'd like to meet with them before the formal debriefing and get the entire story from Lieutenant Reagan."

"Yes, sir.I'll contact them right away."

I moved quickly to the door as to arrive before my guests.

"Doctor Schwartz," I heard as I passed through the double doors, and out into the hall. "Doctor, please respond.Doctor?"

I froze in mid-stride and turned to re-enter the transporter room. "What seems to be the problem, chief?"

"I don't know, sir," the chief replied. "The Doctor won't respond to my call."

I raised an eyebrow, "Computer: locate Doctor Schwartz."

"Doctor Schwartz is in her quarters."

"Doctor, this is the Captain: please come in."

Still there was no response.

"Chief," I said, already in motion, "come with me."

"Yes, captain."

"And bring your side-arm.There could be trouble."

When we arrived at the door to my quarters, I stopped short and pressed the call signal.Getting no response, I hit it a second time.When there was no answer, I spoke quickly into the wall speaker, "Computer, override, voice authorization: Schwartz, Peter Captain."

"Working," slowly the doors slid open.

Carefully we both strode in, not sure what to expect.The lights were off, and all was silent.I began to think that maybe Jamie was just asleep and there was no problem after all.But this was a time of war, and Picard had said that there had been Tregonian activity in this sector recently.

"Computer," I spoke softly. "Lights."

Suddenly, the entire front room was illuminated.And we both saw Jamie lying asleep in bed.I sighed with relief.I guess I was getting a bit jumpy. "At ease, chief," I told him lightly. "I guess stress has been playing too big of a part in my life as of late."

The chief smiled, but still looked unsettled.

Then it hit me as well, "Wait a moment.Something's not right here."

"It's the Doctor, sir," the chief supplied. "She's _not breathing."_

In an instant, I was at her side, "No, she's breathing--barely.But her heart rate is down... and her hands are _cold," I hit my badge. "Schwartz to sick bay--we have a medical emergency in the captain's quarters!"_

***

"What is the problem, Ms. DeDaria?" I asked tiredly. An hour had passed since Jamie had been admitted to sick bay.

Corinne shook her head, "I don't know.No one knows.It's an infection that no one's ever heard of--a kind of cancer, we suspect."

"How is she?" I inquired.

"Well, I can tell you honestly that it doesn't look good.Since no one knows what exactly the problem is, there's no way we can cure it," she frowned. "The Doctor's in a coma right now, and she seems to be holding steady.I have stabilizers being pumped into her left and right, but the ultimatum is still uncertain."

I shivered, fear gripping me, "What is your next step?"

"I don't know," Corinne looked again like the helpless child I had once known her as, so many years ago. "I've tried everything in the book.This infection is just too strange.Her body seems to be taking itself apart, then reconstructing it's tissue in the wrong sequences.We believe that it might be some sort of rare pregnancy disease, accelerated by our time shift."

_The twins, I thought fearfully, "What will become of the twins?" I asked, afraid of what the answer might be._

"They're fine for now," Corinne allowed. "The infection has not reached them yet.I think if we perform an emergency section, they will be spared.But I can't be sure what will happen to Jamie as a result," she looked at me uncomfortably. "Your permission to attempt a C-section, sir?"

"Permission granted, nurse DeDaria," I whispered after a few moments of silence. "Please inform me of the outcome.I... I have to see someone..."

"Everything was right there in front of my face!" I cried. "I can't believe I didn't pick up on it sooner!"Slowly I moved over to the inviting sofa in the center of the room and sat. "All the things she was complaining about--nausea, headaches, dizziness--it was all part of the big picture..." My voice trailed off into a quiet sob.

"Do you really see it as your fault?" Julie asked quietly from the adjacent couch.

"I shouldn't have believed her when she told me everything was fine," I muttered. "I gave up so easily.I should have reported her symptoms to nurse DeDaria..."

"And do you think that would have done any good?" Julie sat back. "From what I understand, the disease Jamie is suffering from is new, even to the medical staff."

"But still... I feel... responsible.I, I... I don't know," I admitted.

"You're not the bad person you're making yourself out to be, Peter.This is your sorrow--your anger speaking.In reality, there is nothing you could have done to save her."

I put my head in my hands, "I've lost Tianna... I've lost Earth.The Federation is in ruins, and now I may lose my wife as well."

"You will have the twins, Peter.And there is still a chance that Jamie will survive," Julie sighed. "I know you have lost much at once--more then any man should lose in a life time--but whatever you do, don't blame yourself.There is a war going on out there, among the stars, and many people feel loses similar to your own.You must fight for the society we once knew.But if you withdraw into yourself like you are threatening to, then I can assure you that this conflict will never be resolved," she smiled with tears of her own glistening in her eyes. "I know you are feeling a lot of pain right now, but soon you will have two new little lives to share life with," sadly she gazed upon me and spoke again. "The pain will get better with time..."

"But it never fades, does it?" I asked dully.

"I wish I could say yes..." she murmured.  
And I wept bitterly--for family, for friends, for planets lost in this dark, cold, bloody universe.

Quietly, the door chime sounded.

"Come in," Julie said softly.

Slowly, Corinne entered, "Captain," she announced. "The twins are alive and in intensive care if you wish to see them."

I stood, "And Jamie?"

"There's been no change in her condition.She survived the section."

I looked to Julie, "Then carry on, nurse," I swallowed a lump in my throat. "And nurse... Corinne... I want... I want to see my children."

"There they are, sir," Corinne gestured to two tiny new borns lying in twin bassinets behind the glass of the nursery. "Two healthy baby boys.Austin Curtis and Matthew Owen, I believe," I looked at her in surprise. "You know the Doctor and I were very close," she smiled wryly. "She was like the mother I never had," Corinne turned and pointed a finger at me. "And whether you want to admit it or not, you had quite a bit of fatherly influence on my life too...," she sniffed. "And you were the daddy I never knew...," and suddenly, I saw a reflection of my own pain on her face.I shook my head.There were two new lives before me.It was a time to celebrate life, not mourn over the lost.But somehow, I felt like weeping.Weeping for my children, who might very well have to grow up without their real mother, without a home, without a planet.

I buried my head in my hands, but this time, no tears fell.Instead, I was filled with a driving force beyond will, beyond determination.Slowly, a stoney shell of denial was forming around my heart.I would not accept that my wife was going to die until I read the autopsy report my self.I looked to Corrine.Tears were welling up in her eyes, but her face was filled with almost the same determination as my own--perhaps she was facing a ghost of her own.

But then, my gaze faltered, and slowly--humbly I fell to my knees, and prayed to God above to have mercy on our souls... and the souls of our children...

Paul stood and strode to the front of the observation lounge.

"Your report, Commander," I inquired.

"Yes, sir," Paul nodded. "Actually, my knowledge gained while aboard the enemy vessel is rather limited," he admitted. "But I will table everything that I did learn, insignificant or not.

"According to my observations, the Tregonians' society is much like the caste society quite popular on ancient Earth, where one is born into a said position, and is locked into that position for life.The only difference is that the Tregonians use genetic engineering in their system.For instance, certain males are bred to be strong, ruthless, and without fear.These would be the warriors of the generation.Then there would be those that would be bred to be thinkers, scientists, leaders, musicians, strategists, and so on.I have yet to see a female of their race, so I would suspect that either the females never leave their home world, or that their species only way of reproduction is by the cloning process.

"The Tregonians' ships are completely devoid of comfort, but are always at maximum efficiency.The Tregonians require no sleep or nourishment, so no comfort is necessary."

"Then they are like the Jem'Hadar," Worf rumbled more of a statement then a question from the rear of the table.

"Almost identical in that sense," Paul agreed. "Except that the former have no fatal addiction to Cordrazine white­­--they are the perfect soldiers.Plus, to ensure success, they always operate in teams--a minimum of two warriors, one leader, and one scientist.

"The Tregonians are an almost invincible people, especially with their connection to the Borg--but like all species, they are not without their vulnerable spots.I propose we hit them at the very heart of their Empire."

Riker sat up; rubbed his beard, "You mean the Hall of the Circle?"

"No," Paul shook his head. "The Hall is just a place of representation for the Tregonian rule.I'm talking about the power behind the throne--Core Base."

"Commander," Geordi said evenly, "we've been looking for that place for years.We're beginning to doubt that it even exists."

Silently, Paul moved to the main monitor and keyed it on, "The location of Core Base," he said softly. "I down-loaded the coordinates while on-board the Scavenger," he gestured to the screen. "Core Base is here, in orbit around the third planet of the Viridian system.Clean, neat, hidden."

"Plans of action?" Picard asked after a few momentsof silence.He leaned forward and folded his hands on the table in front of him.

"We could do a sneak attack," Raseen suggested, "create a commando team and hitch a ride on a cargo vessel heading in that direction."

"And probably get ourselves assimilated or killed," Beverly Crusher put in. "We don't know _what kind of defenses Core Base has.I think we should send a team to scout the area before we make any big moves."_

I frowned, "Do you really think a scouting team would be able to get close enough?I think we need something more direct.Something that will get their attention."

"I say we mass the remnant of the fleet and make them pay for their dishonorable conduct," Worf growled brazenly.Everyone turned their heads to face the big Klingon.

"All of the remaining fighters are at your command, Captain," Ed spoke gravely.

I thought it over quietly for a few moments, "Captain?" I turned to Picard.

There was a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Make it so, Peter." 

"Very well," I concluded. "The Tregonian Empire has reigned for long enough," I looked to Paul, and then to Riker. "Mass the remnant at Vigeria, and we'll take the Tregs by surprise."

"Yes, Captain," Paul nodded. "I'll call everyone with a shred of loyalty to Starfleet together by 0500 tomorrow.The Federation will rise again," slowly they strode from the room. 

"Yes, we will fight," I whispered, and my eyes met both Julie's and Corinne's, "for the lost ones..."

***


	8. 

"I... I am not!" Rom stammered, his green Ferangi head-sheet quivering.

**Captain's LogStardate: 60123.1: The time for battle is at hand.Picard's resistance is finally ready to stand up to their Tregonian oppressors.I, captain of the _Odyssey have taken the reigns of the said resistance and are preparing them for battle.Tomorrow at 0600 hours there is planned several surgical strikes in the general vicinity of the Hall of the Circle.Hopefully these hit and fade attacks will lead the Tregonians to believe that the Hall is our intended target.If all goes according to plan, they should send limited reinforcements to protect the Hall and the sectors surrounding it.Then the brunt of the fleet, with the __Odyssey at its head, will move in on Core Base, the true heart of the Tregonian Empire.This, of course, will be a limited victory, but I sincerely hope that it will be the first in a long line of such.I have accepted that this is not only the Federation's future... but my own as well._******

"You've got a tail, _Gambit," Ed radioed his right wingman. "Shake him."_

"I've got it, Lieutenant, just give me a second," Charlie Nomex responded confidently.Slowly the _Gambit broke formation, the Tregonian fighter on it's tail.The Tregonian pilot powered up his disrupter coils and fired off a few quick shots.The __Gambit swerved left and right, the green blasts sizzling past his cockpit.Nomex jettisoned a quantum mine directly in his tail's path.But the Tregonian fighter pilot was quick.He slammed his stick forward, flew under the floating war head, and righted himself, disrupters blazing.Charlie wiped sweat from his brow._

"Need any assistance, Nomex?" Ed inquired.

Suddenly Charlie pulled back on his stick and did a tight cork screw.The other fighter tried to fumble through the same move, but was a burning cloud of debris in an instant, "No thank you, sir.I think I have everything under control."

"Good job, ensign," Ed complimented, scanning the battlefieldThey had done enough damage here. "Rejoin formation.It's time to pull out," Ed opened a channel. "All Federation fighters.It's time to head home.Our job here's done.I repeat: all Federation fighters, return to the _Excalibur--we're pulling out."_

Ed cut the channel and smiled.The Tregonians were reacting just as they had hoped.Every day more and more forces were gathering at the Hall.Tomorrow at 0900 Captain Schwartz had scheduled the attack on Core Base.If all went well, taking Core Base would be child's play.

Still grinning, he sat back and inserted his hexidisk into the _Maverick's computer console.Music filled the fighter's tiny cabin as he relaxed and prepared for docking. _

The Vorta Corben shook his head violently, but his brain remained in a mental fog.He tried to remember where he was.He recalled a small ship bearing down on them, but it was nowhere to be seen.And things seemed different--something just wasn't right...

"Sir," A voice brought him back.It was his Jem'Hadar First, beckoning him.

"Yes, First?" 

"We are about to exit the wormhole, sir," the Jem'Hadar reported.

"Are all one-thousand eight-hundred ships still with us, First?"

"Yes, sir.They have all checked in."

"Then let us make haste," Corben waved his hand. "Our Dominion brothers need us."

"Sir!" A voice emanated from the pilot's seat to Corben's left. "Deep Space Nine is in ruins!"

"What?" Corben stood. "On viewer!" Slowly, the Vorta's violet eyes took in the destruction before him. "Who is responsible for this?" He demanded.

"I'm reading several very strong ion trails leading away from the wreckage, sir," the pilot replied.

"Can you trace them, Fifth?"

"Barely," the pilot responded. "All three trails lead directly to the... Viridian system.To the third plant from its sun."

"The Federation will pay for the deaths they have caused," Corben declared. "Fifth: inform the fleet that there has been a change in plans.Instruct them all to head in the direction of the Viridian system's third planet--maximum warp."

"Yes, sir."

"We will slaughter the Federation dogs who did this..." First muttered.

"Engaging warp engines, sir," Fifth announced.

And the entire Dominion fleet of over one-thousand vessels, asleep for ten years, set off for the Viridian system, maximum warp.

Silent.Cold.Lifeless.Such is the vast and endless void we call space.

Suddenly in the blank dark sky there was a flash of light.And another--and another.All of them signifying the arrival of a mighty Federation starship and her consort.

I stepped away from the window in my ready room and strode onto the bridge. Slowly I sat down in my chair, keying on my personal display and opening a channel.

"We have arrived at the Briginhan Nebula, a collapsed star just outside the Viridian system.Here our communications and movements will be masked from any would be eavesdroppers by the electromagnetic nature of this phenomenon," I announced. "All starships, assume attack formation Gamma V.Captain Picard?" 

"Yes, Captain," Picard replied from the bridge of the _Cairo, "Second Fleet is awaiting your orders."_

"Excellent.I want you to take the _Scarlet Ibis and the__ Merrymore and secure the right flank."_

"Aye, Captain._Cairo out."_

"Commander Harding?"

"Sir?" A deep male voice responded to my second hail.

"I want you, the _Crazy Horse, the __Monitor, and the __Constellation to watch our rear."_

"Will do, sir," Harding replied easily. "_Advantage out."_

"Mr. Reagan?"

"Yes, sir.Fighters are ready for launch.Just say the word, Captain."

"Very well, Edward," I responded. "All Federation Starships: deploy your fighters."

And the void of space was no longer silent.Now it was alive with hundred's of tiny sub-impulse engines.

"Commander Worf?" I had to make one last broadcast.

"Yes, Captain.Fourth Fleet is awaiting instructions."

"Instruct your fleet to stay within the offensive ring we've already created, but bring the _Defiant up to the front line."_

"Right away, sir."

"The rest of you: spread out and attend to the area where you feel you will be most welcomed.All right," I murmured, rubbing my hands together, "everything's set.Mr. Plack," I turned to Paul, "would you like to give the order?"

Paul grinned, "Absolutely, sir.Attention all Federation starships: prepare to go to warp in approximately three hours.Going to warp this close to a solar system is risky, but we need the element of surprise on our side.You will be fed exact coordinates at which you are to drop out of warp.If you overshoot, you will be plunged into the Viridian system's sun--and if you undershoot, you might not show up at all.Once there, we will proceed to attempt to neutralize the enemy's defenses.Then, once their fleet is demolished, we will move in on Core Base, and commandeer it for our new base of operations."

Paul cleared his throat, "I would also ask you to remember that today we fight for the rebirth of the Federation--and some of us might not come out alive.But I know you will all fight valiantly.The odds, of course, are not in our favor, but seemingly hopeless battles have been won--and most often prove to be the most effective victories."

I nodded, "I believe the great Klingon warrior Kahless the Unforgettable said it best when he wrote these words," I paused as I searched my memory. "'As I gazed into the eyes of the Kaldiein Horde, realizing that my own companions had deserted me, I did not just look at them, but peered into their souls--and I saw the hearts of cowards, not of warriors.So I stood before them with courage; I did not flee. And I said to myself: Yes.Today _is a good day to die...'" _

Slowly, one by one, the Dominion fleet dropped out of warp.

"Status, First," Corben ordered.

"According to these readings, sir, there is no Federation presence here at all.The only thing present is a non-descript alien battle base.Unfortunately, it matches no configuration we've ever seen in either the Alpha or the Gamma Quadrant."

"Sir!" A Jem'Hadar at the ship's tactical station cut the First off. "The battle base is launching fighters of some kind.There are also several cube shaped ships heading in our direction.I think we should take evasive action."

"Are you sure this is where those ion trails lead, Fifth?" Corben inquired again before giving his tactical officer an answer.

"Positive, sir."

Corben's mouth turned up in a sneer, "Then these must be the jackals who took the life of our Founder.I swear on my life as a Dominion soldier that I will make them pay.Third: take evasive action--instruct the rest of the fleet to do likewise."

"Yes, sir."

First smiled emotionlessly, "'Victory is life.'"

"Yes," Corben replied. "We will make them pay with their lives..."

"We're coming up on the Viridian system, Captain," Plin announced from her station.

"Prepare to drop out of warp once we reach the given coordinates," I instructed.

And slowly the stars around us resumed their natural size and color.

"Sir, we've arrived at the--"

"Captain!" Benson cut Raseen off. "We have approximately one-hundred vessels on a collision course with us!"

"How could they have detected us so soon?" Paul asked.

"Negative, sir," Benson replied. "These aren't Tregonian ships--they're Dominion battle cruisers!"

"There hasn't been a Dominion ship reported in the Alpha Quadrant since '78," I protested.

"Shields up!Evasive action!" Paul commanded over the collision alarms.

But suddenly, all one-hundred ships disappeared in a blinding burst of warp energy.

"What?" Plin covered her eyes against the flash.

"They weren't attacking," I decided. "They were fleeing..."

"From what?" Julie wondered.

"Sir: Tregonians off the port bow!"

"Red alert, Mr. Benson," I responded. "All Federation starships: this is it.Shields up, evasive maneuvers!" I turned to Paul. "It looks as if the Dominion has inadvertently helped its sworn enemy out a little.The Tregonian's defense line seems a bit sparser then I would have guessed."

But in an instant, the first wave of ships was upon us.

In the great silence of space, we exchanged feral blows.Phasers firing, torpedoes launching, ships knifing through the battlefield.Fighters from both sides wove in and out of the fray.Scavengers were everywhere, draining the life-energy from our fleet with their flickering pincers.

I winced as the _Explorer's nacelles were raked mercilessly by a Scavenger's pincers.I watched as her ram-scoop imploded, and she went up in a ball of fire._

"Course correction, Ms. Plin," I instructed. "Set an intercept course for that Scavenger.Starship _New Zurica," I radioed, "move in for the __Explorer."_

"Aye, sir," the captain of the _Zurica responded.The sun of the Viridian system glinted majestically off the saucer section of the __Zurica as it glided into its new position._

Our own ship swayed as we changed direction to fill in the hole the _Zurica had left behind. _

"Prepare to fire phasers on my mark, Mr. Benson," Paul commanded. "Target our Tregonian friend off to starboard... firing pattern: Beta," Paul raised his hand. "Fire," he brought it down.

Our newly repaired phaser crest surged with energy and discharged, sweeping across the battlefield. 

"Keep us straight, Ms. Plin," I warned. "Take us straight back into the fight."

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Benson," I started. "Fire at will."

"Yes, _sir."_

Ed shielded his eyes as a Tregonian Scavenger was torn to pieces by the _Cairo's phasers._

He pushed forward on his control stick, causing his fighter to dive suddenly.His tail duplicated the manuver with ease.Ed ran all of his options through his mind.

Swiftly he changed course, heading directly for the nearest Borg cube while dodging disrupter blasts from his pursuer and from the surrounding enemy ships.But as soon as he was within a few meters of the cube, he slammed down hard on his stick, skimming the straight edge of the Borg ship until he was clear.The Tregonian fighter tailing him wasn't quick enough and collided brilliantly with the cube ship's shields.Slowly Ed banked, then turned and rejoined the fight, micro torpedo launcher blazing.

***

"Report, Mr. Hail!" I demanded.Smoke was pouring into the bridge.

"Our starboard nacelle's been damaged, and we're venting plasma--plus the computer reports a hull breach on deck ten!" The red alert sirens wailed in the background.

"How's the big picture, Mr. Plack?" I gripped the arms of my chair.

"Not good, Captain," Paul replied uneasily, yelling over the creaking of the _Odyssey's decks. "Our losses are twice as heavy as theirs are--the Borg ships are what's killing us, sir!"_

The _Odyssey shuddered as a disrupter burst glanced off her shields._

"Options?" I inquired pointedly.

"Hull breach on decks ten through fifteen!" Paul cried. "Our inner hull is beginning to buckle!" 

Dan Doyle slammed his fist down on the core console of engineering.

An alarm went off in the background, joining the harmony of the already ringing klaxons.

"Agilet!" He called to his second in command. "Get me the status of our antimatter containment!"

"Aye, sir," the ship shook, and Agilet stumbled to her station.Her red hair had somehow worked itself loose from her tightly woven braid, and now hung free.She brushed it from her face with one quick gesture. "Antimatter pods one through six have been compromised, sir!Six through twelve are unstable, but holding," Agilet looked up with fear in her eyes. "If we lose antimatter containment..."

"Noted, Lieutenant," Dan cut her off. "Engineering to Bridge!" He hit his badge as he strode over to the core access panel. "Phase inducers are off-line--antimatter containment is questionable!"

"Acknowledged, Mr. Doyle," the Captain replied. Dan heard the words, "Damage control teams to deck seventeen," before Peter could speak again. "Keep us informed, Mr. Doyle," The Captain finished.Dan heard a panel blow out. "Bridge out."

He tore off the wall covering that concealed the core access panel, and began frantically pushing keys.

Suddenly, the casing around the warp core cracked and a thick purple gas began pouring out.

Dan started, and his eyes widened.

"Coolant leak!" He cried, once again smacking his badge. "Bridge, we have a coolant leak," the panel Dan had been working on exploded in a shower of sparks. "One more hit like that last one, and we're looking at a core breach!" He turned to his crew. "Everybody out!Com'on, move it!" Hurriedly he waved them under the slowly falling force door.

I absorbed Mr. Doyle's words with a strange calmness, "Acknowledged, Lieutenant," I stared hard at the Scavenger on our main screen, wishing that the crest had not been disabled, and that there was some way we could damage the leering monster.

"Sir," Mr. Benson said. "The Tregonian Scavenger is powering up its forward disrupters for another attack!"

"Transfer all auxiliary power to the shields, Mr. Benson," Paul commanded.

"See you on the other side," Plin murmured, almost as if she were talking to herself.

But with those words, the Scavenger on our forward viewer exploded in a magnificent ball of flame.Its twin pincers went flying off in opposite directions, both still crackling with blue-green energy.One of them stuck in the side of a Borg cube and detonated.Half of the cube was blown into oblivion.

I turned my eyes back towards the wreckage of their stardrive section, and watched in awe as the _Cairo sailed gracefully through the glittering debris._

I opened a channel, "Thank you for the assistance, Captain," I panted.

The hazy bridge of the Galaxy class _Cairo appeared on our viewer, "Any time, Captain," Picard half-smiled."And I think I may have more good news for you," he paused to look down at his console on the arm rest of his command chair. "I've been monitoring the situation, and I think I've got a solution to our little Borg problem."_

"Proceed, Captain," I allowed.

"We need to take out Core Base," Picard said simply. "Hopefully, the new Hive Ruler is aboard.And if so--it will not get rid of our entire Borg problem, but it should help us out a lot during this particular battle--when the Hive Ruler is killed, this Borg sect will cease to function."

"A commendable plan, Captain," I commented as the _Odyssey shook again. "Though it will be a shame to lose an outpost of such strategic value."_

I opened a channel. "All Federation starships: break formation and focus all of your attention on the Tregonian's Core Base.I repeat: focus all of your fire-power on Core Base."

Slowly, like a great multitude of buzzards, all of the Federation Starships still functioning broke formation and converged on Core Base.

Fire rained down on the Tregonian's command center like hail.The fighters swarmed in and out of the offensive circle, holding the Tregonian starships back as far as they could.

Suddenly, in a brilliant burst of flames, Core Base exploded.Debris rained down on all of the surviving vessels, resulting in a second explosion as the adjacent spacedock caught fire.A forceful shockwave emanated from the wreckage, rippling into and then over our shields.

I covered my eyes against the brilliance of it.

But then, out of the magnificence came what sounded like screams of pain and agony.Whispers, voices came across our still open channel.

Soon I saw the reason why.One by one, the Borg vessels within the system activated their self-destruct mechanisms.With their Hive Ruler dead, they would now be susceptible to any suggestion.Rather then have that happen, it was clear that the Borg doctrine called for suicide.

Finally, all was silent.Now there were but a few Scavengers left in the vicinity.

I licked my dry lips and switched on the com, "All Federation units," I radioed softly.I paused to scan my bridge.All was quiet, and my senior staff had their eyes locked on me, waiting to see what I would say next.I took a deep breath. "Commence clean-up of your designated area, then head back to Base Camp.I think our job here is done."

***

"We have won a great victory against oppression today," I started earnestly.I looked out over the main room of Science lab V.It was an hour after the last ship had checked in, and I had gathered the senior staffs from each of the main starships to sort of wrap things up; bring them to a close. "Yes, many were lost.But much was gained.I cannot help remembering the old Federation.The one we all knew as great.It was based on principles--solid ideas that a group of people built into a magnificent society.A society of peace, of prosperity.And I believe that it can live again.The Federation has been faced with oppression before... and it has overcome.Again and again, it has overcome.

"Once Earth was as the universe is now.During the Third World War, Earth was _ruled by such tyrants as the Tregonians.But it overcame.And out of World War III's ashes rose the most powerful federation to ever influence the galaxy.It cost lives, it cost ships, but on we fought--because we knew our rightful place in the universe was beyond Alpha Centuri, beyond the Sol-system._

"The Federation will rise again," I repeated firmly. "The Tregonians will be overthrown, and order will be restored.Myself and my crew did not have to endure the past five horrific years as most of you have.But which was once our future is now our present..." I looked at the ground for a moment. "And we have accepted that.We will fight with you.We will restore the galaxy to its rightful order," tears glistened in my cloned eyes. "And no more will the aching pain of loss be part of everyday life..."

Silently, I sat in my quarters aboard the _Odyssey, rocking Austin gently.Matthew was asleep in his crib, and a gentle Bach symphony was playing in the background.Slowly, Austin's eyes drifted shut, and I quietly stood and placed him down next to his brother.I looked out the curved main window of my quarters at the activety going on in the blackness of space.Fighters flew back and forth, carrying supplies to their damaged mother ships.There were some space walkers doing maticulous repair work on the outer hull of the __Advantage.I thought of the __Odyssey.Soon it would be completely repaired, its warp core replaced._

But with one movement, I turned my back on all of it.I felt drained, tired.

I returned to the couch and sat.Closing my eyes, I leaned back.

But not a second later, the door chime sounded.

I sighed, "Come in," I said a bit irritably.

Corinne entered without a word.

"Corinne," I sat up, irritation fleeing from me. "Hello."

"I just thought you'd like to know that we haven't given up on Jamie," Corinne said gently, sitting down beside me. "But we've moved her into cryo-gen.That should keep her alive until we can find a treatment," she turned to look out at the stars. "It's all so wrong," she shivered. "This is not the universe I grew up in."

"I can assure you it is," I corrected her. "But we're a ship misplaced.A people 'out of time.'"

"I was engaged when we left, you know," she said, a wry smile forming on her face. "To a very special man.A man I loved, one who I felt I could share anything with," her eyes fell. "But he's dead now," she whispered. "He's gone, and I don't even know how he died."

I slid my arm around her, as I used to when she was younger, "Don't worry, Cori.Things will get better.Old wounds will heal.You and I will recover together."

"And now Jamie may die," she went on, and her eyes glistened. "I've lost my parents, my fiancé... and you... you're the captain of the flagship of the Federation.Who knows how long you have to live.I'm scared... I'm scared, Daddy..." she looked up into my eyes as if for approval.And when she saw that they were filled with tears as well, she lowered her gaze and put her blond head on my shoulder.

Future's end.

But there was hope.The Federation would indeed rise again, and Tregonian rule would be dealt with.

I told myself Jamie would recover as well, though deep in my soul I was fully aware of the truth.But still, I knew that the shell around my heart would prevent me from ever going to see my crogenically sleeping love--seeing her, I told myself, was accepting it.

I shook my head and sighed.I had lost my home, I had lost Tianna, I had lost the society I knew and loved.But I had gained confidence, wisdom, experience... and I had gained a daughter...

_____________________

**Epilogue**

The doors to sick bay hissed open quietly.Silently I strode into inner ring of the bay.

"Captain?" The senior nurse on duty, one Jennifer Warren looked up from her desk, surprised. "Is there a problem?"

"No, nurse," I assured her quietly. "It's all right."

I could tell she was mildly taken aback by the calmness and serenity in my voice, "Um... yes, sir.I'll be here if you need anything," she returned to her work.

"Thank you," I nodded, and passed through the next set of doors, a clear set, and into the ship's autopsy room.

"Computer," I spoke softly. "Lights."

The lights came on instantly, but I lingered by the doors a bit longer.Then I took a deep breath and walked over to the corner of the room.

There, one of the autopsy tubes had been removed from the wall and converted into a cryogenic chamber.I peered through the glass, and into the closed eyes of Jamie.

"Well, here I am," my voice sounded loud in the silence that surrounded me. "I knew I had to come sooner or later.I haven't seen you around lately, so I figured you must have been working late...," I half-smiled at my attempted joke, but, of course, there was no response from my wife.

I knelt beside the tube, "I guess I just didn't want to believe it was true," I whispered. "How long's it been since they put you in here?" I lowered my eyes. "The medical staff tell me it's been a _year.But to me it's been like an eternity," tears glistened in the corners of my eyes. "I remember how it was.Not many people do.How it was before the Tregonians came--before the Federation fell," I looked into Jamie's emotionless face. "We had a young daughter then.Do you remember her?Little Tianna?If she were alive today, she'd be almost twelve years old," I raised my hand and ran it across my eyes. "I loved her almost as much as I love you.But now she's gone," I choked back my tears, and took a breath. "And so are you," I laid my hand on the glass. "'No,' the medical staff says, 'no, we'll get her back.'But no matter how much I want to believe that, I know that it's not true.I know they're saying it for naught but my benefit.Something inside me says that I'll never see you alive again, J'naii.Some instinct in the pit of my soul says that I should let you go, accept that you're going to eventually die.But I will love you... until the last stone is dust..._

Placing both of my hands on the glass, I lowered my head until it rested on the side of the capsule...and I sat there, my eyes unfocused, staring off into oblivion.

Slowly, a single tear cut a wet path down my cheek...


End file.
